


Under My Skin

by Iwrteficsnottragedies



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abused Draco Malfoy, Abused Harry Potter, Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Emotional Manipulation, Good Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger smells some bullshit, M/M, Ron's a good person you guys are just mean, Secret Relationship, Silver Trio, Slow Build, Slow Burn, seductive pansy ;), slight obligatory Dumbledore bashing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2020-07-21 04:22:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 28
Words: 67,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19995793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iwrteficsnottragedies/pseuds/Iwrteficsnottragedies
Summary: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy had more in common than one would expect from their bitter school rivalry. Neither wanted the life that was laid out or expected of them. Both had seen too many things and lost too many people to return back to blissful ignorance they once held. They just wanted peace.And that was exactly what they found in each other.Strange events occur, causing Draco to wake up at Number 4 Privet Drive. In a unlikely twist, the two boys become infatuated in one another as the opportunity allows them to see the small things. Such as the way Potter's laugh sounds like hot chocolate on a cold night. Or Malfoy's eyes hold more secrets than anything.A blissful romance blooms, but will either of the boy's fate's allow it?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the Harry Potter franchise. All rights go to JK Rowling and the Warner Brothers. Besides the plot and writing, I do not own anything. This book is also originally on Wattpad under the account Solangelo-is-my-OTP.

PROLOGUE 

Harry sat alone on the thin window seal in his room and looked up at the faint stars. He knew if he was caught being up so late again Vernon would have a fit worse than last time. He couldn't help it though. Tonight was the full moon and he had been waiting all month for it. Since being locked up so often this summer, he had recently found a new habit of looking up at the stars.

He watched as dark storm clouds blow in and cover the sky. His mouth formed a frown. He had made sure to read the paper beforehand. It wasn't supposed to rain for nearly two more days.

Given up his plans for the night, he decided to go back to bed when something caught his eye. A streak of silver flew past his window and into the midnight abyss. A catching star, Harry thought.

He walked back to the window in an injured grunt. His shin and ankle were still badly bruised from the night before along with some of his arms and chest. There were also many more before that but he decided to put those thoughts away for the time being. You didn't see a falling star that often. It was quite the once in a lifetime event.

He closed his eyes quickly and thought of a wish. It wasn't hard, really. The real problem was picking only one to act on.

There was Cedric.

Then Sirius.

His parents.

The Dursleys.

The list went on. It was quite sad. How many people wanted to meet or be this 'savior' when in reality they knew nothing of what lay beneath his lightning bolt scar? He was nothing but a lost shell of this image they had produced and worshipped.

"Get me out of here," he wishes. "Please." Whether that was for the roof he was under currently, or something else entirely, he didn't know.

+++

Draco's gut plummeted as soon as he got back to his room. He knew it was to happen eventually, but not so soon. Couldn't they have at least waited until he was out of school? Or when he was an adult even? He gripped his blonde hair and let out a choked sob. He wouldn't-, No he couldn't do this. It was crazy. He was only sixteen for Merlin's sake.

Tears racked the boy's small body as his back slid down the wall and to the floor. He was no longer the pristine boy he pretended to be and he knew it. Everything he ever did was to please him, never himself. Yet it was still never enough. No matter how cold or crude he became to be, his father would still have something to criticize.

Malfoys don't cry, his father's words rang in his ears from when he was five years old and just fell off his quidditch broom. He didn't understand the tone and threat in his voice at the time but more so when he grew older. Malfoys don't show emotion. 

Bitter tears fell onto his lips when he laughed to himself. 'Too late for that now.' 

The back of his nose burned from the emotion that was wracking through his body. He was lucky to have soundproof walls in his room. If he didn't, his father would most likely use the Cruciatus curse on him again for causing a scene. So he used this to advantage. He picked up the nearest item and threw it at the wall. Luckily, it was only a pillow.

He was just so angry. Why didn't his mother help him? Perhaps she wanted this as well. The thought tore him to pieces. He couldn't confide in anyone for this. He was utterly alone. But maybe that was for the best.

The room was dark except for the soft moonlight coming from his open window. Distant owl screeches played far in the distance. It seemed everything was calm beside the crying boy on the floor.

Slowly he sat up and wandered over to the green and silver window seat. He needed to see it again. To make sure it was real and not some twisted nightmare.

The moonlight did no justice to his already pale skin and puffy red eyes. Most of the tears hadn't even dried yet and moved farther down his face as he moved. He was too emotionally drained to wipe them away right then. Instead, he looked down at his white dress-shirt sleeves and pushed the right side all the way up to his elbows. His hand's hands shook wildly in the process.

Draco covered his mouth with his hand to hold back a sob. Right on his forearm was the one thing in his arm he despised the most. The black ink danced on his ghost-like skin. It was a sore thumb to the rest of him and would be for the rest of his life.

He clenched his tear soaked eyes shut in pain. "Get me out of here," a small whisper leaves his trembling lips. Unbeknownst to him, a small streak of silver passes by his window and back to the abyss just as quick. 

"Please."


	2. Panic Room

**CHAPTER ONE**

**Panic Room**

**[HARRY]**

"Boy! Get down here this instant! "

Harry woke to Vernon's yelling downstairs. The clock beside him read six forty-five and he cursed. He was supposed to have breakfast done by the time the man woke up and that was nearly twelve minutes ago. It wasn't necessarily  _ Harry's _ fault though. They had kept him up to nearly one in the morning pruning the rose bushes which was especially hard to do by moonlight with their small thorns pricking you everywhere.

He quickly tried to make presentable by brushing his hair down but it was useless as always. He changed into a new shirt, not that it was clean, they barely allowed that luxury unless guest were coming over, but it was a nice to mix things up. His pants would have to stay. The others had ripped the day before when Dudley had got a hold of him at the park. And he was  _ not _ about to put on pair of shorts for his injuries to be on display. He had some dignity.

He was at the bottom of the stairs in seconds and met with Vernon's murder-filled glare. His eyes were nearly bulging out of his whale of a body. He winced as he grabbed a fistful of Harry's hair and slammed his head against the door frame. A fat, meaty finger was shoved in his face followed by a mousy mustache. The paralyzing hurt from his skull spread through his body like icy, liquid metal. Harry clenched his fists as he hesitantly met the menacing glare. He noticed his began to feet tremble. 

Petunia and Dudley had gone to visit Aunt Marge for the day after she called and said she was coming down with the flu. He wouldn't care as much for noise that morning.

"Breakfast isn't even done and yet you're sleeping in. " He spits in his face. "You're unruliness has gone on far too long. You never learn you lesson! He lets go and Harry's body slams down to the ground. Harry barely has time to pick himself off the ground before getting kicked directly onto his side.

"Food better be done by the time I come back in here or you'll see worse than that."

He exits the kitchen, leaving Harry in a groaning lump on the cold, tile floor. He knew he didn't have much time before Vernon finished getting ready. The thought made him want to throw up. Slowly, his brain picked up his feet in an unbalanced gait, carelessly pulling himself up with the counter. His legs gave out, causing him to fall and bust his chin on the counter and the copper taste of blood to fill his mouth. 

_ Only one more week _ , he thought weakly to himself.

Vernon came swooping around the corner just as he finished putting the last of the sausage on the plate with shaky hands. It was towered with eggs, bacon, toast, and grilled tomatoes. The very sight of it made his stomach ache a little due to recent malnutrition. he didn't dare take any though, Petunia kept a close eye on how much food there was in the fridge. As did his uncle, but only when it was on his plate.

"Get out of my face before I re-decide my generosity. Your list is on the coffee table. If it's not done by the time I get home, no food for a  _ week _ . Understood?"

"Yes, sir." Harry manages to stutter out before turning around to walk away. Apparently, that been a bad choice because a fist slams into his shoulder, colliding with various bruises. He yell out a small yelp in pain. 

"Clean up your mess you worthless boy! I will not let my family sink down the pigs of your kind!"

Harry's fist clench but he's able to bite down his nasty remarks. Instead, he mumbles an apology and start adding the pots and pans to the sink.  _ You would practically be dead if I wasn't here to cook and clean every summer, you bloody tosser. _

Vernon finally gets sick of glaring over his shoulder and throwing insults and takes his plate and wobbles into the sitting room to watch television as he ate. It was some wrestling program that was so absolutely staged it was almost funny. Vernon and Dudley never seemed to have enough brain power to notice. 

Harry notices that just a little bit of the eggs and tomatoes were left on the plate when Vernon leaves for work. It was only a little, maybe only a couple of bites, but it looked like heaven when you haven't eaten in nearly four days. The brunet hastily ate it up in fear his uncle would be coming back through the door any second. He didn't though, and a sound of relief left his chapped lips. It was the first time in weeks that all the Dursley's were all gone at once. He still had chores of course, but it was easier when insults or kicks weren't constantly being thrown your way in the process.

He sighed picked up the parchment on the table to examine the schedule for the day.

_ Take the waste out, _

_ Mop all the floors, _

_ Dust the shelves and fans, _

_ Bleach the counters and bathrooms... _

It read as it went on and on. At the bottom of the list, they made it violently clear if he did anything of suspicion or use their things, he was in for a beating.  _ Did they really expect me to get these all done within seven hours? _

The answer was no. They didn't.

Harry bit his lip and decided if I wasn't going to finish them in time anyway, there was no need to rush. His injuries still had to be treated to and Hedwig needed to be fed. A neighbor last summer had reported seeing the bars on his window which did bode well with the police. The Dursley's had to take them off and it was great for letting Hedwig go hunt, but terrible for the beating he received afterward. But at the moment, the owl's right wing was injured due to a skirmish with another owl outside.

He let out a loud grunt in a painful attempt to get up the stairs. It was hell trying to get up the steep stairs when injured.

Finally making it to the top, he used the wall to make my way to the bathroom. He wasn't technically supposed to be using it since it was Dudley's, but they wouldn't have to know what didn't hurt them.

Thirty or so minutes passed before he was actually able to move somewhat easily again. The cut on his face had stopped bleeding and his ribs had some of what little ointment he had left on them. He needed some more soon; he couldn't order one by owl again and he definitely couldn't go out and buy it. They would just have to make due until Hogwarts.

Harry slipped the light blue tee back on from the floor and found his way back to my room. The cold floorboards creaked under his bare feet as the door pushed open.

At first he didn't notice the abnormally large lump in his bed. He went on with his business and opened Hedwig's large cage. She gave Harry a thankful hoot as he proceeded to fly around the room, her snowy white feathers dull from the lack of food. The bowl was low as predicted so he slipped her some bread he saved along with her water. It reminded him probably needed to fill up a few bottles he kept just in case was locked up again. 

He was just about to go through the doorway again when a small groan caught his hear. Harry looked over his shoulder and towards the bed. Something, or more like some _ one _ , was moving under the covers. They shuffled enough that a pale foot popped from under the blanket.

_ What? _

His wand was downstairs in the cupboard so there was no chance of protecting myself if this was a magical intruder. But if it was, they were doing a  _ really _ bad job at hiding.

_ Maybe it was someone from the Order like last year? _

He silently tiptoed back over to the bed and went to go pull back the covers when they shot up themselves. Harry stumbled back in surprise and fell to the floor with a thump.

"What the _ hell?" _

Harry's head shot up and he nearly choked on the air. Malfoy was sitting upright on the bed with his platinum blonde hair wildly spread around his face. He looked even more confused than Harry did to be honest. Maybe even a little scared. 

" _Malfoy?"_ He practically screams. The slytherin looks down at him in shock before practically scrambling off the bed. His plain black pajamas were still on and crinkled from his sleep.

" _ Potter?"  _ He yelled back. "What did you do to me!"

" _ Me?  _ What-! You're the creepy git who decided to break into my house! And take a nap in my bed while at it!" Harry whisper-yells back. He was flabbergasted.

" _ Bed _ ? Do you call that a bed? That's nearly a lump of coal!"

"Well I'm sorry, I didn't exactly plan to have a surprise visitor!" Harry scrambles back to his feet and wiped his hands on his already dirty pants. He immediately took in my disgusting appearance and grimaced.

His eyes wandered around the plain, lifeless room. The once white covers on my bed were now a mess on the floor next to the small, twin-sized bed that sat right in front of the window. A small wooden dresser was hastily still thrown open from this morning and was revealing hat little clothes he owned. Other than the chair and empty birdcage on top of it in the corner, there was little to nothing else to show.

Draco huffed. "Well I certainly didn't come here on my own free will, did I? You must have done something."

"I don't know if you've _ noticed _ Malfoy, but this is just as much as a surprise for me as it is for me as it is for you. Plus, unlike some others,  _ I _ can't get away with underage magic."

Draco shakes his head in frustration before he realizes he's still in his sleeping wear. He lets out a very unmanly screech and ducks under the blankets once again. The sight of it almost brought a laugh to my face despite the circumstances.

"Where's my wand, Potter." His voice asks, muffled from under the covers.

"Why the hell would I know?"

"I don't know, because you kidnapped me?"

"I did  _ not _ kidnap you-"

"Shut it."

Harry groaned and they fell into an awkward silence. It seemed like he was not coming out anytime soon.  _ It's not like it's underwear _ , he thought to myself. His pajamas looked better than his own clothing situation for Merlin's sake. He was being dramatic.

Harry walked over to his side of the bed and saw his platinum blonde hair plastered across his face with abnormally pale skin and wide eyes. He was muttering something incomprehensible under his breath.

"I don't believe you. You had to to do something. Where's your wand?"

"First off, get your head out of your arse and realize I already told you I didn't do anything. Second, why would I tell you?"

He recoiled slightly at the venom laced in my words so I continued on, "You're just going to have to suck it up until we can fix this mess, okay? We're going to have to wait until my neighbor gets home, though."

"Aw, does Saint Potter require the help of a muggle neighbor?"

"Says the one cowering under bed sheets, " I growl. "And no, she's a squib."

"Same difference."

"Cut it off Malfoy, I could kick you out right now and I'll bet you, you wouldn't survive ten minutes out in the real world." Harry would sock him in the jaw if he wasn't so weak. Malfoy was beyond ignorant and he wanted nothing more than to let him get a taste of his own medicine. 

"Fine, just get me a change of clothes." 

Harry's nose scrunched up and he and looked back at his dresser. he was embarrassed to admit to not having any to spare. Maybe they wouldn't notice if he took some of Dudley's? It was doubtful but it might work.

"Fine, follow me."

Harry limped the way towards the doorway trying to hide it as much as possible. If he found out the abuse it would be all over the prophet. Just one more thing the world needed to make fun of him about.

As Draco moved down the hallway, he took time to notice the muggle decoration and the unmoving pictures on the wall. He stopped at the last one in particular and frowned.

"You aren't in any of these."

"Thanks, I've noticed. Now come on before I give you a trash bag to wear." 

Vernon did that once. He was seven and had embarrassed him in front of the neighbors. He decided to leave that part out. 

Malfoy begrudgingly followed until Harry pushed open the last door at the end of the hallway. His eyes widened when he saw the mess of broken toys, clothes, and game controllers that took up the floor. Pictures of famous wrestlers were covering the walls along with the video game characters Dudley idolized. There was even a magazine that was peeking from under his pillow cage that showed an nearly naked woman.

_ Gag _

"Don't mess anything up or I swear to Merlin I'll hex you to the next century."

"Oh, but I thought our savior couldn't do magic outside of school?" He smirks.

"Do you want the clothes or not? Because then you can be on your way and we both can forget about this mess."

He sighs and he crosses his arms in agreement.

Prat.

Harry turns around when he's sure the blonde wouldn't mess with anything. He opens the closet and hundreds of dirty, piled up shirts and other miscellaneous junk comes tumbling out like a mudslide. Draco watches in amused fascination as he tries to pull out the smallest clothes he could. First, he found a pair of black jeans and white shoes. Both of which must have been left from one of his friends in past years because they could  _ not _ fit him. Out of the mess he also found a large green sweater that had a faded wrestling team logo on it. He couldn't find a shirt to fit so it would have to make due.

Draco took them from my hands and stared at me with a look I couldn't quite register. "These are muggle clothes, Potter. Three sizes too big at that. What am I supposed to do with these?"

"I don't know, wear them?" 

He scoffs but waits for Harry to carefully clean up the mess and escort him to the bathroom. It wasn't five minutes later that he came out looking like a new person. 

he was about to drag him back into the room when there's a loud bang from a car door. The blood drains from Harry's face. Were Dudley and Petunia back already?

He grabbed him by the wrist and hurriedly rushed back to the room and threw him in the closet.

"What-"

"Stay here. Whatever you do, don't leave this room, okay?"

He doesn't wait for an answer and slams the door shut. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 2517 
> 
> 2/28/19


	3. Lovely

**CHAPTER TWO**

**[LOVELY]**

**HARRY**

Harry slammed the door in an alarm and ran as best as he could toward the window. Dudley was making his way toward the door with Petunia behind him. Panic arose in his empty stomach. It was only eight in the morning and they weren't due back until tonight. He cursed under his breath. Of course this would be his luck. What would the Boy-Who-Lived be without a life full of trouble?

Harry staggered back down the stairs when he heard the front doorknob jingle. He would get killed if they found out he hadn't done anything yet. In a last attempt, he dove for the duster just as the door swings open.

His heart beats fast against his chest when their cynical and disgusted gazes wash over him.

"Get off the floor, boy. You're ruining the carpet."

"Yes, ma'am."

She walks out of the room and a sound of relief escapes him. She didn't check the chore list.

"Hey freak, where's my breakfast?" Dudley taunts with a glare when she's out of earshot.

Harry ignores him as he pick himself off the floor. Dudley was just wanting to provoke him so he could get in trouble, Harry knew that much by now, but it didn't stop him from wanting to sock him right there. This seemed to bug Dudley even more, pushing him to continue. 

"What, cat got your tongue? Oh no, that's your boyfriend's Cedric's job, isn't it?"

He could at least come up with new insults after two years. They were getting old.

"Dudley, please go away," Harry whispered. He didn't have the energy to deal with him. Merlin forbid Petunia come back him and see him not at work. He just needed to get back to Malfoy. 

"Not until I get breakfast!"

Harry sighed begrudgingly and made his way toward the kitchen. Dudley sneered in delight behind him then jabbed a finger into the brunet's already bruised ribs.

Harry was halfway with cooking when a loud thump came from above him causing him to accidentally drop some pancake batter onto the floor. He frowned and put down the spatula. Dudley was in the sitting room at the moment so he didn't hear or cause the noise. That only meant him one thing.

He finished quickly the food quickly, careful not to burn it, and shut the burner off. The clock on the wall told him he had already left the blonde git by himself for nearly thirty minutes. What plenty of damage he could do by that time.

"Your foods done," he stated to the fat pig sitting on the couch while making his way back upstairs. Dudley's nose scrunched up in disgust.

"Aren't you going to bring it to me?"

He don't know where my sudden bravery comes from but he sneaks a snarky response back. "Aren't you going to use better insults?"

His face grows red. "Do not!"

"You could replace your brain with a carrot Dudley, and I can assure you, no one will even notice."

He stands up angrily and stomps his way over to Harry. One large hand grabs his arm and the other pins him against the wall. Expecting a blow to the face and actually receiving one were two different things he's learned through the years. Especially with Dudley.

"You remind me of a goldfish Dudley. It can fight but it won't have enough IQ points to remember it ten seconds later," I smirk.

Harry gasp in pain when the other's fist slams across his jaw. He does it again but to his stomach. He guessed it was warranted since he provoked him. That didn't stop it from hurting though.

Hermione was right. Maybe he was a little reckless at times.

"Shut UP!"

He shoved Harry's body into a lump on the floor then stormed over to the front door and left, slamming the door in the process. Aunt Petunia came in a minute after and pinched her lips at the scene.

"You're getting blood on the floor."

My heart shrank a little more at her words. He could hardly believe this was the woman who was protecting him. Seeming to do more harm than good, wasn't it? At least she never purposely hit him like the others. That had to count for something.

She waltzed out of the room and into the kitchen and made her a plate of food from the platter. She barely sparred Harry a glance as she took the rest to herself and went back into her room. 

Harry gripped the stair railing to pull himself off the floor. His gut was aching along with his jaw. At least most of the bruises were covered, so that was a plus side. The fewer questions the better.

Malfoy was standing in front of the bed and fixing the sheeting the sheets when he walked in. His head swirled around quickly at the noise of the door opening. The movement caused his un-gelled, blonde hair to dangle in an angle the sun caught perfectly through the window.

He frowns in confusion when he sees Harry. "What happened to your face, Potter? My mistake, it must be permanent."

Malfoy ruins the image by standing up straight up where the sun can't reach him. The git was aggravatingly pretty when his trap was shut.

"Nothing. I thought I told you to stay in the closet?" One of his hands come up to hiis face to hide the forming bruise. He was just lucky to have a long-sleeved shirt on today.

"And except me to suffocate to death? No thanks."

Harry scoffs. "Well, you shouldn't be _suffocating_ for much longer. Ms. Figg should get back from her work trip tomorrow morning."

He look around the room, just now realizing how clean it was compared to it's usual state. "Did you clean all of this?"

"It's not like I had anything else better to do," he shrugs. "I'm still trying to figure out how I woke up here." He walks around to the other side of the bed while he continues to talk. "You obviously didn't do this as much as I want to believe that. That would be to Ravenclaw-"

"I'm right here you know-"

"-and I didn't do this either obviously." He places his hands onto his hips and looks back up to me. "And anyway, I don't need your muggle neighbor to take me home thank you very much. I'm capable of that myself. Just take me to platform 9 ¾ and we can forget this ever happened."

I frown at him. "You realize that's nearly an hour drive, let alone a walk, right?"

"Your broom?" He questions with a furrow.

"This is a muggle neighborhood, Malfoy. Someone will see us."

The truth was that he couldn't exactly get to it at the moment. It was locked downstairs like everything else but that wasn't necessarily information he was willing to share. Besides, it wasn't like it was a lie either. He didn't want a repeat of last summer.

"Then we can take one of those muggle things. What are they called?"

"A car?"

"Yes. One of those things."

He wonders over to the door behind me and I throw my arm out before he can open it.

"Wait! I uh- don't have...my license yet."

"You're what now?" He seems surprised by Harry's sudden action and even more so by the statement. Merlin, he was absolutely clueless when it came to anything outside the wizarding world.

"In the muggle world, you have to seventeen or older to drive."

"What good does that do," He sighs. "If you must, get one of your relatives to drive you. I'm not staying in this dirty muggle house any longer than I need too."

**DRACO**

"If you must, get one of your relatives to drive you. I'm not staying in this dirty muggle house any longer than I need too."

"Listen here Malfoy. One more racist comment from you and you're on the streets, okay?"

His voice was threatening and deadly steady. Potter's eyes dug into Draco's and told him he was serious. He could be really threatening if he wanted but it was hard to at the moment when he looked so fragile.

Draco wasn't as blind as he was making himself out to be. His torso was incredibly thin and his clothes were absolutely dreadful. Holes and dirt covered the rags and not to mention they were nearly seven sizes too big on him. He had already commented on the bruises on his face but it was clear he didn't want to talk about it.

His cousin's room was a nine-year-old boys fantasy compared to what seemed to be his. The room was dull and void of life with it's grey painted walls. Potter was trying to hide something and it was obvious what. Shoving him into the closet for thirty minutes didn't help either.

"So be it Potter. Just let me go home."

Draco goes toward to door once again but Harry blocks it with his body. "You can't." Potter spits out quickly. "Not right now at least..."

"And why not?"

"I have...chores."

"...chores?"

He rolls his eyes. " _Yes_ , Malfoy. Some of us aren't rich and have house elves to do everything for them."

"I know what chores are, you imbecile. But why does that affect me?"

"Do you want to be in a car full of muggles for hours?"

Draco considers the repercussions. He might be able to escape without his father ever noticing he was gone. He could practically feel the electricity of the crucious curse in his stomach. It might just have been the fear, but at this point, where they not the same? His father didn't care what he used as long as it got Draco to listen.On the other hand, Ferris would more likely smell the blood impurity on him. Voldemort wouldn't hesitate to kill him.

Draco's eyes closed. "I suppose not."

"That's what I thought. And besides, they would have no idea where to cross at. You would need me. It's just easier if we ask the neighbor tomorrow. If you can survive until then,"he sneers.

Draco retracts his hand from the nob. You could see his poster relax slightly at the sight. "Fine, have it your way then, Scarhead."

He ignores the insult. "I have to go do some chores and that's...going to take some time. Under no circumstances, at _all,"_ he glares at the blonde, "should you leave."

Draco snorts. "You sound like Severus."

 _"_ Maybe I am," Potter resorts.He roll my eyes.

"And what if I have to use the bathroom, _sir?_ "

"Hold it."

Harry is about to leave when he shouts. "Wait!"

"What now, Malfoy?"

"What the bloody hell am I supposed to do in here? It's practically a death sentence sitting in here alone. Die of boredom? "

Harry smirks at him. "You're welcome to finish my transfiguration homework in the dresser."

~~~

It was almost eight hours later and Potter hadn't come back into the room. Never in a thousand years would he admit to being worried but rubbed in the wrong way. He could already tell the house wasn't that big from looking out the small window and seeing the identical, lined up houses across the street so it couldn't possibly take this long.

For the millionth time, he wondered if his parents would even notice his absence. The clock on the nightstand read five. There were only a few hours until they ate dinner and father definitely know by then. Draco's blood was cold at the thought of his reaction. Why couldn't bloody Potter let him go home when he wanted? He was smart enough to could have figured something out. Malfoy had to stop himself from jumping out the window. 

He closed the book that was left in the closet and falls down backward into the bed. Draco found muggle culture quite interesting unknown to popular belief. Their imaginations and creativity were intriguing when it came to things like television or phones. They were useful and he didn't see why wizards refused to use them. Not that he would ever mention that to his father. 

Draco was about to get up when he heard a door slam shut loudly from downstairs. It wasn't long after that until he heard yelling. Shivers ran up his back at the all too familiar noises. I pressed his back against the bed frame and held his hands over my ears to try and block it out. At the manor, all he had to do was go inside his room. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case here.

Potter came busting through the door minutes later with a pant. He turned around quickly and locked the door behind him. He hadn't even had time to take his hand off the nob when someone tried to yank it open from the other side. It was obvious that he was being chased. 

"Potter?" He yelps. His breathing was labored and his face was blood red. He leaned against the wall in support for his wobbly legs. Slowly, he slid all the way down until he was sitting with his head between his knees and arms cradling his head.

Draco felt himself panic a little. He knew these were symptoms of a panic attack from his own experience, but what the bloody hell was he supposed to help another's? 

Harry seemed to completely forget that Draco was even in the room so he got up and wandered slowly to where the shaking was sitting. Watery green eyes met with his own. Draco felt his heart squeeze. 

"I'm right here, Harry. Just breathe." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 2199
> 
> Published: 3/9/19


	4. Welcome Back To You

**CHAPTER THREE**

**[Welcome Back To You]**

**DRACO**

Harry reached out and grabbed Draco's wrist with such force it would probably cause bruising later. He winced slightly as Harry tugged on it even harder when he tried to pull away. They were cold and clammy which sent shivers up his spine.

Someone knocked on the door again, making Potter jump nearly ten feet in the air. Yelling was coming from the other side but Draco was to busy trying to calm the boy in front of him than to figure out what they were saying.

"Potter, I'm right here."

He didn't understand how his presence of all people was supposed to help him. If anything, he should have only forcefully pushed him over it. That didn't seem to be the case here.

"Open this door this instant boy or no food for a week!" A deep voice yells that makes Draco's stomach turn. He didn't even have to ask himself who the person was. He'd already seen the boy's thin frame and bruises. The blood running down from his nose. The fear in his eyes.

They were a mirror of his.

"Watch me, okay? In. Out. In. Out."

Harry tried to listen to Draco but the banging of the doors caused him to be distracted and squeeze his eyes shut. Draco's mind was racing on what to do. They couldn't stay there much longer, that was obvious. There was still a week until Hogwarts started and he was sure as hell not bringing him to the Manor. Draco thought of Severus for a moment but dismissed it quickly. His loyalties were too blurry to be safe.

As much as it tore him to pieces, going back to the Manor was non-negotiable for him. Potter could be dropped off at Granger or Weasel's house for the time being. They'll be able to fix him up in no time. They're who he really needed right now. 

All of a sudden, Draco feels something cold and hard hit his face.He looks down and see a loose screw lying next to his hand.

"What the-" He's cut off by a loud thud of something hitting the wall hard. There was a small indent in the wall behind me. Another screw. Suddenly, five more flew out from the door hinges and into the plaster. Draco ducked quickly with his hands over his head for extra protection.

When he looked back up, Potter's eyes were wide and glassy looking at something to his right. Draco followed his gaze and his jaw hung loose. The door frame was blown wide open and burn marks trailed from the hinges to where the wooden door was lying on top of a huge, un-moving lump. It took a few seconds for him to register that lump was, in fact, a human. A largely overweight one to be exact.

Potter must have done accidental magic when he wasn't paying attention. The older you became it usually became harder and harder to lose control of your power. Especially at such a powerful level. You had to be under immense pressure to do something like that.

Draco grabbed Harry's arm. "We're leaving. Right now. Come on." He pull myself off the floor but Harry grabs his sleeve and tugs.

"I c-can't," He stutters. "I can't go..."

Draco doesn't listen to him. He pulls him up from the floor and towards the window. "I don't care, Potter. You're going to die if you stay here any longer."

He tears his body from the blonde's grip, "That's none of your business to meddle into." He wipes his bleeding nose on his arm with his voice still shaking. "I can deal with this myself."

"Like Salazar's beard you can. Just look at yourself. You're practically a ghost!"

They argue back in fourth - mainly consisting of Draco trying to leave - when a moaning comes from behind them. Their shoulders tense. They couldn't stay here much longer if they didn't want to be caught.

"Honey? Are you okay?" Someone yells from downstairs. A beat passes causing Potter's eye to meet Draco's fearfully. _Saint Potter my arse._

He quickly pushes back the thin white curtains and opens the window. His heart was beating fast in his chest. He didn't survive his father's cruelty this long to die at the hands of a whale.

"I told you already, I can't go!" Potter whisper yells with a shaky voice beside him. "I need to stay here."

"And why is that? Is the Boy-Who-Lived to heroic to save himself for once?"

He hesitates and glances back through the doorway with shaking hands. Draco wanted to grab him by the wrist and drag him out the window since someone was now coming up the stairs, but Harry was still somewhat in the midst of a panic attack.

Time seemed to slow down around Draco at that moment. All he could focus on was the blood dripping on the hard floor. He barely heard the light footsteps coming towards them and the shrieking that followed.

Potter seemed to made his mind up right then. He grabbed Draco's small wrist and nearly shoved his out the window. While the woman was distracted with trying to get her husband to wake up he stepped up on the window seal. He was only halfway out when he paused and looked back at the empty room.

This probably was his last straw. Draco knew from experience he would never be welcomed back after this. This would mark the ending of a chapter of his life. A very _very_ long chapter. 

No matter how happy someone may seem, they have moments when they feel the world is falling down around them.

~~~

"Well, what do you suggest, Malfoy?"

Draco huffed "I don't know, that's why I was asking _you_."

It was almost pitch black outside already and Potter was getting restless. Neither of them wanted to be out any longer than they had to be. It was shivering cold despite Draco's jumper's best efforts. Potter had it worse. Both of his arms were wrapped around his frail body to keep warm. His thin shirt and ripped jeans did nothing to circulate the heat inside. But whether he was shaking from the cold or the recent events was a mystery.

Their company of one another wasn't helping either. The first few minutes after they escaped through the window they ran. They ran until both their lungs gave out and were sure they weren't being followed. They're now wandering the streets slowly all the way towards London in silence with various outburst of arguments.

"What about a muggle cab?"

"I already told you. We're too far away from the city."

Draco scrunched up his face in distaste. His life was ticking away the longer he was gone. he could practically feel the curses his father would throw at him when he walked through the door. It wouldn't even be a surprise if he tied Draco's hands together right there and threw him in a room with the Dark Lord like dead meat and a griffin. It was likely he would have done even sooner if his mother wasn't there to stop him. It was only a matter of time.

His wrist started burning when they turned the corner. He winced slightly, bringing it up to the chest in pain. Potter looked at him for a moment but looked away just seconds later. He was too lost in his own sea of thoughts and the weight on his own shoulders to have time for Draco's.

Right when his feet feel as if they were about to fall off, Harry suddenly stops. Draco runs right into him.

"I have an idea."

"Brillant. Care to share with the rest of the class?'"

Potter rolls his eyes, and to his surprise, sits down on the sidewalk. Draco stares at him awkwardly in confusion.

"What in Salazar's name are you doing? Do you _want_ to die out here?"

"Just wait."

"What do you m-"

He's cut off by an obnoxiously loud screeching in front of them. A man was standing in front of them with a dirty, unkempt uniform. His nose was pointed at a funny angle and he had a funny grin on his face. Most importantly he has hanging off the railing of a tall, purple triple-decker bus. It's edges were rusted from what looked like years of use but Harry didn't seem to mind. Draco was immediately on edge. The man's face was familiar but he just couldn't place a name of it. His stomach tied itself into a knot. 

"Welcome to the Knight Bus. Emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. My name is Stan Shunpike and I will be your conductor for this evening." The man reads lazily off what seems to be his hand before looking up with a face full of surprise.

"Mr. Pottah!"

"Hello, Mr. Shunpike."

"Glad to see ya' face back around, ya'?"

Potter laughs awkwardly. "I guess."

Draco watches the two make conversation in a daze. Of course this random person would recognize Harry Potter and immediately make friends. Who bloody wouldn't?

_"And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."_

_Weasley gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco looked at him._

_"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."_

_He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."_

_Harry looked at his hand and back up. "I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself,_ _thanks."_

He couldn't blame him. If he met himself at eleven years old he probably would have hexed himself. If he met himself _now_ he would hex himself. But back then he was just an annoying prick with a life dedicated to pleasing his father. Only near the beginning of fourth year did that admiration falter. Now he had so one to blame but himself for his disgusting actions. 

"And who is this young fella with ya'?" A voice asks, snapping Draco back to the present. It sounded more suspicious than of curiosity.

"Oh. Um. This is..."

"Saruman Walnterlock." Draco nods at him with fake enthusiasm. He didn't trust this man yet with his real identity. It was one of the first rules he learned at a young age. It was easy to manipulate a person that way.

"Ah. Yes...the Walnterlock family. I coulda' recognized that blonde hair anywhere."

He doesn't respond.

"So, where to?"

Potter looks at Draco spectacle for a moment then back at the conductor. "The Leaky Cauldron, please. Also, when we get off the bus...you never saw us. We don't exist. Got it?"

Shunpike raises an eyebrow. "And what for?"

He sighs. "I have no money on me, sir. I can pay you back when I do, I swear."

"... a'right then...but only since ya' 'arry potter. Couldda' do no harm to bring in some business."

"Thank you."

Moments later, the both of them are gratefully pushed aboard the bus and sat down with a hot, brown liquid in their hands. The strange substance had marshmallows floating on top which he found interesting. Draco took a small whiff and was surprised by the heavenly smell it produced.

_Chocolate and cinnamon..._

"It's hot chocolate, Malfoy. A muggle drink."

He takes a small sip and acknowledges for Draco to do the same and so he does. His eyes widen. It was the perfect mix of all his favorite desserts. The marshmallows melted in his mouth and the caramel was mixed perfectly.

"Merlin's beard," he whispers, forgetting the boy sitting next to him. He take another gulp and savors the warmth provided. It tasted like heaven.

"You alright there, Malfoy?" He grins for what might be the first time in months.

"Oh, shut it." He bite back, obviously lacking his harsh tone. It was playful.

He quickly finished the cup and asked for another before the bus even started up again.

And Draco didn't know what was more intoxicating. The way he tipped Harry's head back in laughter or the warm drink in his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 2033
> 
> Published: 3/23/19


	5. Ease

**CHAPTER FOUR**

**[Ease]**

**HARRY**

Harry stepped off the daft bus with an uneasy gut and even bruises than before. The night air greeted his lungs with gasping breaths. He was thankful that he didn’t have anything in his stomach at the time or otherwise he might have thrown it up. Apparently Malfoy had the same idea.

He stumbled out behind him and almost tripped on the stairs. His hair was sprawled across his pale face with a hand covering his mouth and the other holding his abdomen. “I think I’m going to be sick…”

As soon as both his feet touch the ground, the bus is gone. It races down the abandoned street in the search for its next victims of the night.

Harry sits down on the sidewalk to try and regain his balance. The coldness of the pavement digs into his cut-up palms while a harsh gust of wind blows by and through his shirt. He grits his teeth and puts his head in his hands. There was a headache was pounding in his head and his panic attack earlier and the sharp jerks of the Knight Bus hadn’t helped either.

Malfoy walks over and leans against the light pole with a groan. “Bloody hell…”

They sit there for a couple of minutes in a comfortable silence. Little to no one was wondering the streets this late at night beside a few night-owls that passed them without a second glance. Harry wondered how often this was a sight for them. 

Harry looks up at the sky briefly and catches Malfoy doing the same. The stars weren’t nearly as bright in the city as they were on Privet Drive but you could still clearly see the almost fully illuminated moon.

“Waning gibbous,” Malfoy mutters, taking Harry slightly by surprise. Wizards barely referred the moon phases by their muggle names so it was a shock when they left his mouth, let alone him knowing what they mean. The action somehow left him a little more comfortable enough around him to spit something back other than a snarky comment.

“Yeah…,” he lifts a hand to point at the sky, “and Orion.”

Silence falls over them once again but this time it was slightly more uncomfortable. Harry take the time to notice the crack on the bottom of his glasses' lenses. He inwardly groans knowing he’ll have to put up with it until Hogwarts unless he got new ones, which, as he thought about it, wasn’t that terrible of an idea. He’s had the same pair since he was six. And they weren’t even the best having getting them from Ms.Figg.

“Are we going to go in or not? Because quite frankly, I’m cold and in need of food. You should be grateful I even came with you…”

Harry grits his teeth.  _ Back to being an annoying git as usual. _

“Sod off Malfoy. I wasn’t the one about to puke my guts out, was I?” He pulls himself off the ground but grunts in pain from his sore back. Malfoy’s loathsome facade falters when he sees Harry could barely walk without wincing.

Malfoy bites his lip and turns his head away with a troubled look before taking a deep sigh. He slowly wanders over towards Harry with an extended hand for him to take. Harry racks his head for any type of sick trick this could be. Eventually he finds none and lets the blonde pull him up. 

Malfoy pulls Harry’s arm around his shoulders and helps him walk towards the front doors of the Leaky Cauldron. He mummers something under his breath, suspiciously sounding along the lines of ‘father will definitely  _ not _ be hearing about this…’

He manages to open the doors with his free hand. Harry was immediately astonished by the different atmosphere the pub brings. Wizards and witches were packed into the small building with a variety of different bright, bubbly drinks in their hands. People were yelling and laughing everywhere he looked. Others were tightly twirled around each other and dancing to the music blasting throughout the room.

The scene caused a lump to form in his throat. All these adults were drunk off their arses. Harry knew every adult wasn’t like Uncle Vernon when drunk but that didn’t stop the fear burning in his chest.  _ Just count to ten _ , Harry thinks to himself. It was a trick his first year teacher taught him after being cornered by Dudley.

Malfoy pulled him through the crowd towards the bar counter. He had been so round up in his thoughts he hadn’t even realized he had pulled up his jacket’s hood to hide his face. It didn’t do much though because people still drunkingly whispered as he passed.

“The Boy-Who-Lived…”

“....he has the scar, look!”

“Is that blood on his face…?”

“Someones with him...”

When they finally get to the front Malfoy manages to catch the bartender’s attention. Harrys not able to hear most of what theysay over the rush of blood pounding in his ears and the thunderous music.

“Sorry mate, there’s just no more rooms left. It’s The Festival of Wonder is today.” The man winks and tries to pull away but Malfoy catches his wrist just in time.

“What do you mean ‘Festival of Wonder’?”

“Well, you know, the legend of Cassowary and his comet. How it grants a miracle to all the lost souls.” The bartender squints his eyes, “Have you really never heard of it?”

Malfoy shakes his head. 

“Well, it’s mostly just seen as an excuse for people to get laid these days. Kinda disgusting really when you think about the origin of the holiday and what it was meant for…”

Malfoy quickly drops the man’s wrist. “Oh, okay. Thank you. Have a nice night.” He turns back around to Harry and put his arm around the other again. 

“Where are going…?”

“Somewhere else.”

“Thanks.”

The crowd started thinning out when they get to the entrance to Diagon Alley. They push through the newly installed door to be met with total silence once again. The streets were deserted and almost all of the stores were closed for the night. 

“Come on. I think I know a place where we can stay.”

Harry snorts, “and where would that be?”

“It’s called Ebroin's Nightowls.”

“Never heard of it.”

“Good.”

It's clear he doesn’t care to elaborate so Harryhad to refrain himself from pressing. The last thing he needed was a fight, especially in his current situation. Besides, his eyelids felt like lead trying to keep them open. The only reason Harry didn’t pass out right then was his relentless migraine.

“Hey dung brains, we’re almost there. Don’t you dare fall asleep on me.” Malfoy drags him around a corner and it takes him a minute for him to register it as Knockturn Alley. Harry push away from him. 

“What do you think you’re doing? Luring me into a trap, are you? Of course, you are, I should have expected it sooner…”   
  


“Oh for Merlin’s beard, Potter. Get your head out of the clouds. Not everything is going to be about  _ you _ oh bloody ‘boy-who-lived’. Other people have lives as well, and believe it or not, some are just as complicated as yours. Just because  _ you _ haven’t seen it yet, doesn’t mean it gives you the authority to judge anyone that doesn’t agree with you.”

His face is slightly flushed and he’s panting slightly. Harry stood uncertain, not expecting an outburst like that from someone as usually refined as Draco Malfoy. Guilt immediately starts eating at him. 

“Look, I didn’t mean too. I just-” Malfoy’s cut off by a gasp escaping his lips. He leans up on the wall behind him and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Malfoy?”

He doesn’t seem to hear me. Instead, he pulls his left forearm closer to his body in an agonized manner and a fights grimace on his face. 

“ _ Malfoy! _ ”

Harry reach out towards him but hr blonde pulls back quickly as if his hands were made of knives. Malfoy’s hands cradle his head and cover his ears. It looked like he was trying to block out something. Harry looked around desperately to see what was causing it. Nothing. 

Suddenly, his eyes flew back open. They were wide in the fear that he knew too well. Malfoy took one look at Harry before turning away and spilling his stomach’s contents. 

~~~

“You done yet?”

“Fuck off.”

There was a flush on the other side of the stall door then Malfoy came out looking slightly better than before. That didn’t stop the smell of puke radiating the bathroom though. Harry scrunched up his nose and Malfoy sneered. 

“You look no better yourself Potter so I would keep whatever you’re about to say to yourself before I find my wand and hex your eyebrows off.”

He ripped some paper towels off the roll next to me and Harry rolls his eyes. He turned back to the mirror and continued trying to get the dried blood from Dudley and his uncle off his face. You could already see a black bruise forming all around his eye along with the sleep-sunken bags underneath from the nightmares. There where a few cuts on his cheeks as well but those didn’t worry him as much as the deeper one running across his temple. Now that the blood was gone it was clear that he might need stitches for it to heal completely unless he found a wizard or which nice enough to fix it for him in the meantime. Harry’s nose ached too but that was the least of it. It was his ankle and back that was causing the most pain at the moment. 

Malfoy walked out the door causing Harry to limp after him. They were only a couple of feet from the inn when Malfoy vomited the first time, so when he finished he just ran straight inside and into the bathroom. Harry had to apologize to the landlady profusely before following him inside. She only smiled warmly when they walked out. She came out from behind the counter and walked over with welcoming arms that reminded Harry of Molly Weasley. Malfoy gave a genuine, affectionate smile back that told him they obviously knew each other.

She was an old, petite woman in what was most likely her seventies. Her hair was a mix of black and grey put up in a bun held up by two sticks in through both ends. Everything about her screamed motherly.

“Draco,” she walked up to him and gives him a big hug. “It’s been too long! My my, you’ve grown, haven’t you?”

He flushes. “Yes ma’am”

“You look sick, why, are you coming down with the Spattergroits again? I can go get a sickness potion from my stores. If that's fine by you- oh and who is this fine lad you brought with you?”

“That would be great Bramble, thank you. This is just an friend from school. We’re in a little...predicament. I need to ask a favor of you.”

“Of course dear, what is it?” 

He looked back at Harry nervously. Harry can't hear their conversation, only the slight surprise on the witches face tell Harry he begins to explain everything. Harry silently pray to Merlin that he leaves out the part with my uncle. He doubted it. He was a Malfoy after all. Political gain was the most important thing to them above all morals. 

“Yes of course. We have an available room on the third floor. Are you sure about leaving?”

“Yes, I have to get back. Just one room please.”

“Thank you so much.” He gives her a hug and wonders back over to where Harry is standing as she goes behind the desk to get a key.

“One room?” He questions. 

“I need to get back to my house. She said I could use the fireplace to Floo back.”

“So what? You’re just going to drag me here and leave me wandless and without any of my school supplies or clothes?”

“I- you can get new ones. I’m going home.”

“ _ No,  _ you _ aren’t.  _ Not until you help my wand back. I can’t buy a new wand. I need _ that  _ one.” Harry crosses his arms like a stubborn baby..

Just then the woman known as Bramble comes back. She hands him the small key and turns back to the blonde. “You know Draco,” she says with a twinkle in her eye, “he has a point.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 2069
> 
> Published: 4/3/19


	6. Safe and Sound

HARRY

Harry was glad that even though the building looked to be falling apart, there was still hot water beading down on him from the shower head. The warmth was comforting after the frigid temperature outside.

He looked downwards at the dirt trailing off his body and into the drain. There was so much of it you could have mistaken the water as brown. The sight made Harry's gut turn in frustration. It was his first actual shower in weeks that didn't involve the piercing pressure of a gardening hose. And it was all the Dursley's fault.

Harry had to reason to himself that if they didn't exist, he would have been long dead by now by Voldemort's supporters. Or even by the noseless bastard himself. But there were times in house whether he wondered if that was even a fair trade deal. If he was dead, surely that would be better then beat nearly every day? He would have his parents and godfather again. Hell, maybe even a loving boyfriend. 

He could have a loving family, but instead, got stuck with ones that treated him like dirt under their shoe. How on earth was the fair? For anyone? Yes, there was always the Weasleys, but even then he felt like he was intruding on their family when they invited him over for long periods of time. Especially Christmas. 

He grabbed the soap and furiously started scrubbing his body until his skin felt rubbed raw. He knew he was free of them, for now at least, but that didn't stop him from wanting to remove every trace they ever existed from his skin. Sadly, a bar of soap wasn't going to be able to do everything. Too many bruises and scars littered his small-ish frame for it to ever return back to normal. 

Harry shut the water off when he heard a knock on the door. "Your clothes are cleaned, Potter. If you can consider them such." 

He sighed, regretting allowing Malfoy to share a room with him. The blonde git would probably murder him in his sleep and wouldn't even have a wand to defend himself with. If anything, that was probably exactly why he was here in the first place. 

Harry quickly wrapped a towel around his waist and opened the door. Malfoy was waiting there with the clothes in one hand with a small book in the other and reading intensely. He took them gratefully and changed behind the door. Though, he noticed quickly that the clothes had rapidly changed in size. They were nearly perfect in size when Harry when looked at himself in the mirror. The holes were missing from the cuffs and knees of the jeans too. 

No matter how used it got the wizarding world, it always found a way to surprise him.

"Who fixed my clothes?" He asks through the door.

"Madame Leverett did. I asked her to shrink them too."

"Why?"

"Why not? They looked dreadful in their state. They still do. Who wears brown with maroon?"

"Not everyone has rich mommies and daddies to give them everything they want, Malfoy."

Harry seems to take the sudden silence as a victory and smirks with satisfaction as he finishes putting the rest of his clothes.

"Surely beats being an orphan crying for his dead parents every night, doesn't it though?"

He couldn't control his actions after that. It happened so fast the other poor boy could barely process what was happening before it was too late. Harry had Malfoy pinned up against the outer bathroom wall with his forearm on his throat, anger clearly written on his face despite the pain from the sudden movements. 

"Listen here you twitchy little ferret, mention my parents ever again and I swear to Merlin you'll be seeing stars for a month." He spits, "And magic won't be necessary."

Harry knew he was being slightly dramatic, but again, he couldn't control it as well he used too. He was quick to temper and hard to calm down ever since fourth year. He hated it, snapping people he cared about over the smallest things.

Malfoy sneered back at him. "Then shut up about things you don't understand."

Harry scoffs. "Me? Me? Have you looked into a mirror recently? Because I think you're the one needs to keep their trap shut. Your whole family at that."

"I said shut up about it." Malfoy's hands tightened into fists, undeterred by the calm in his voice. 

Harry pulls his arm away. "No, I don't think I will. You don't get to start fights and not finish them. "He pushed the boy's shoulders back for emphasis. "You don't get to decide that."

Malfoy looked down at his feet, taking in the other boys rant. He knew he was in the wrong. Though the words that escaped his mouth were like a foreign mutter to him, an echo of what his father intended him to be, they were very much real. 

"Are you even listening to me?"

Malfoy looked up and met the emerald green eyes blazing down on him. It sent daggers to his stomach. 

"Yes, I was. And if you don't mind me, I think I'll take this as my leave."

~~~

DRACO

"Back so soon dear?"

I groan and walk over to her couch without answering. Making sure my shoes aren't touching, I lay down, taking up the whole couch in the process, and throws my arms over his face. 

"Long day?"

I nod slightly, causing her to chuckle. "I've been there too. How do you think I got all these white hairs?" She laughs. 

The way she immediately brightened my mood was one of the many reasons I liked Bramble. When I was little, she used to babysit and tutor me when both father and mother were out (which was more days than I liked to admit). She would bake me cookies when I was sad or play with me in the quidditch fields when I was having a bad day. And when I got hurt, she would take time to help heal me herself and not boss around a house elf to do so. How a mother should. 

She was the most prominent adult figure in my life up until I was ten years old. Father found out she had been teaching me muggle literature and fired her on the spot. I remember father throwing them into the fire as soon as the door slammed shut. He forced me to watch them crinkle in ash despite the tears that were rolling down my face from losing the only real parent figure I had. It was shortly after then that he started hexing me for stepping even the slightest out of line. 

Mother and I still made short visits to her in secret when he wasn't home. Although she still believed in blood purity, mother also believed that it wasn't worth losing a valuable friendship over. Bramble talked quite often to mother even now. 

"Do you want to tell what got you so upset? Is it that boy?"

I sighed, "Partly."

"What happened?" She sits down on the couch next to mine and takes a sip from her mug. 

"I- I got in a fight. He started it technically...but I said some pretty nasty stuff I shouldn't have. And I regret it. But if he hadn't started it, I wouldn't have been provoked... "

"You still sound like the ten years from six years ago," She chuckles again. "What did he say?"

I shrug. "I'd rather not repeat it. Or really of it really."

She pats my knee. "That's fine my dear. Do you want to quickly Floo your mother to tell your mother where you are? I bet she's worried sick."

"No thank you," I answer a little too quickly. "I owled her earlier." 

I was suddenly reminded of my painful reality. She knew nothing of my darkmark on my skin or that father was secretly hoarding Voldemort and the rest of his evil cronies in our house. As far as she knew, I was just as innocent as her in this war.

I felt sick to my stomach for the second time today. If she ever found out, she would never welcome me inside her home ever again. She would hate me beyond wits. I would truly be alone then... The thought made the back of my eyes burn.

"The boy looked familiar. Would his parents happen to work in Diagon Alley?"

I looked around the room nervously. "His parents are dead. You-Know-Who killed them when he was a baby."

She gasped. "That poor thing! If I had known-" she pauses mid-word and her eyes widen. "Wait, he couldn't possibly be...could he?"

"Harry Potter?" 

She nods.

"Well...you're correct.

Her tea slipped from her hand and was sent crashing to the floor. She seems at lost of her words. Having lived through all of the You-Know-Who's first era of terror, she knew all about Harry's story. If I had anything to say about it, I would have to say she was slightly obsessed with it. She loved to tell me stories when I was smaller on how one day I might even be able to attend school with him. One of the many reasons I tried to befriend Potter in the first year. 

"Good gracious, I'm quite the klutz. Hold on." She grabs her wand and mutters a quick reparo, repairing the cup but not the hot liquid of the floor. She grabs a towel off her cluttered table and wipes the floor clean. She whispers under her breath just loud enough for me to hear. "I knew it..."

"Do tell me if I'm hearing this right. Did you happen to wake up in Harry Potter's room...this morning?" Bramble chokes.

"Yes, I told you about it this earlier. Why?"

"Oh, its nothing dear...just curious dear."

"Bramble..."

She sighs. "You're parents never let me tell you about this, labeling it a day for the foolish, but it was my favorite holiday as a child. Most pureblood family's don't celebrate it. It's called the Festival of Wonder-"

"-That's what the man at the Leaky Cauldron said. The Festival of Wonder. What does it mean?"

"You would know if you let me finish," Bramble scolded.

Draco flushed. "Sorry..."

"Well, where was I? Oh yes. My favorite holiday. As you know, when I was younger we didn't have much money so both my parents were always out working. So every year on August twenty-first, I would look outside my window and look outside my window and hope to see a shooting star."

I thought back to that night and shivers down my spine. The day I tried to fight getting the dark mark and ultimately failed. 

"But not just any shooting star...Cassowary's comet. The brightest one is the sky."

"Did you ever see one?"

"How do you think I met you, silly?" She laughs and reaches over to ruffle my already messy hair. I smile warmly back at her. 

"If you're blessed enough to see it, you get a miracle. All the lost souls get one."

"Okay....why is it called Cassowary's comet then?"

"Well, all good holidays have a backstory. There's a reason why most of the sightings end in love. It's rumored that there was a very lonely man who was madly in love with a maiden named Cassowary. Unfortunately, this maiden has married to a very mean man already. He tried to get her away from her husband many times, but she was far too brainwashed by her husband to believe him. Then one night, while he was sleeping, the lonely man managed to sneak in and kill her husband in his sleep. The next day, the wife woke up and was distraught to find his body. She killed herself three days later in despair. The man found her and took her to a wizard who turned her body into a star so she would live long in memory and heart."

"...Bloody hell. That's a children's story?"

"No, it isn't. But it's tragic and that what makes it beautiful."

"How is suicide is beautiful? Why is it being romanticized? It tears families and loved ones apart every day. It's ruthless, dark, and scary. A contagious disease that eats away at you until finally there is nothing else left. Nothing. How is that romanticized?"

She looks taken aback for a moment. "I don't know. Maybe its the idea of loving someone so passionately you feel nothing without them. It dangerous falling that deep when there's no one on the other side to catch you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 2155
> 
> Published: 4/10/19


	7. Silhouette

CHAPTER SEVEN

Silhouette 

HARRY

Harry was frustrated. He always was with Malfoy around, but this time was different. It wasn't just because his insult had reached a little too far this time, it was because just for a tiny sliver of a moment he thought he saw some good in his classmate. Apparently, he was mistaken. 

He grabbed the nearest pillow to take his frustration out on. He hated being like this. It wasn't like him to get violent. It scared him at times. 

He sighed with his head in his hands and limped over to the bay window. The day's events were flying through his head like wild snitches. Draco-fucking-Malfoy, of all people, had somehow come to his rescue. Despite how he hated how it sounded, it was true. Uncle Vernon would have beat him to a pulp if Malfoy hadn't made him snap to his senses in time. 

But Harry would still have to go back to that wretched house to get his trunk and wand. The thought alone sent shivers down his spine alone. Going back so soon would be signing his death warrant. The Durselys might have even snapped everything in half already, it wouldn't be new of them...

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a small tapping on the window. Harry's mood did a 180 when he saw Hedwig dancing in front of the glass to be let in. The owl hooted gratefully when he opened the panel. Harry went to pet her but she nipped roughly at his finger.

"Ow! Hey, I didn't mean to leave you there! I was in a rush, you know how it is... Besides, you found me anyway, right? Just like you always do."

Hedwig hooted again and flew toward a plate of food he had just realized was there. His stomach rumbled at the thought of a hot meal. Harry stood up, wincing as his foot made contact with the ground, and walked over to it. The plate was filled with sausage, bacon, fried eggs, toast, and even some treacle tart. His mouth watered at the sight of it. 

He decided to split the toast between him and Hedwig, seeing as she can go out and hunt for herself, and saved the rest for himself. He ate as fast as his stomach allowed him too. Before he knew it, his plate was empty, leaving him with only a bellyache. 

Harry sat and ranted to his feathery friend for a minute before Malfoy came walking back in the room looking much more solemn than before. Harry bit his tongue to prevent himself from saying anything. 

They sat in silence as Harry watched Malfoy sit on the edge of his bed and glared at the wall.

Harry wanted to feel mad at the boy but he couldn't stop himself from smiling at how much the blond prat looked like a pouting six-year-old who just got told off for being up past their bedtime. 

Malfoy looked over at him. "What's so amusing, Potter?" He sneered but it only made Harry want to laugh more. How had he never made this connection before!

"What are you laughing at?"

"Y..You.." He says between bursts of laughs wheezing. It wasn't doing anything for his sore ribs but he just couldn't help himself. "Merlin's beard, you look like pouting six-year-old.."

"I do not!"

Harry wiped a tear from his face. "Yes. You do."

Malfoy huffed. "For your information, I was thinking about how to fix our situation. Now, if you would stop being such a child-"

"You're the one to talk."

Draco glared at him. "If you would stop being such a child, you would help me. It's your rubbish anyways that needs rescuing."

The previous tension between the two was now gone. Though Harry would be lying if he said he still didn't feel anything between them. Until now, Harry always thought it was just because of the rivalry they had, but as he thought about it more, it was always there. Since the first day they met in the robe shop, Harry knew. 

Harry dismissed the thoughts away. There was no point in thinking about it now. He had to focus on getting his wand back. He felt vulnerable without it. And now that he was out of the Dursely's house, the chance of being attacked had doubled. 

"If I had my wand this would be much easier. I could just do a delusion charm and we would be right in." Malfoy went on, "We might have to reply on a potion or pre-charmed item. Polyjuice would be ideal but I doubt we'll be able to find a store selling it. I might be able to brew some? No no, the recipe takes over a month..."

Harry leaned against the headboard to listen but winced loudly when his back hit the wall. Malfoy suddenly stops his one-sided discussion and looks over. It was clear he was concerned but trying not to show it.

"Are you okay?"

"It's fine," he grunts, his face twisting in pain as he tried to sit up again. "Go on."

"I didn't go through all this trouble to get you out of that house for you to wallop in your pain. What hurts?"

"Does it really matter?"

Harry didn't know why Malfoy was so suddenly concerned in his health. It wasn't like it was affecting him. He figured the only reason Malfoy dragged him out of that house in the first place was to save his own arse. Did he actually care about what happened to him? Dumbledore knew yet had to help him. (Part of the reason he felt he deserved it. If the greatest wizard of all time did nothing, there had to be some reason for his suffering.) Even Ron to some extent. So why did Draco?

Draco scoffs. "Of course it matters. A child shouldn't be hit or by someone they should be able to look up too and trust. It...It's heart-shattering. No one should live that way."

"I'm not a child. I can deal with it myself." Harry mutters with defiance clear in his voice. 

"Fine then. Since you're too heroic to save your self, how would you think this would make others feel? What would Granger and Weasley do if they found out?"

Harry didn't take time to notice how he had used their proper names before firing back. "I don't know, okay? Rejoice? Cry? Why do you care, anyway? This is what you wanted all along, isn't it? See spoiled little Potter get exactly what he deserves..."

DRACO

Draco recoiled slightly at his words. Did Potter really mean that? Did he really think he deserved that? He couldn't help but feel as he was shot with the killing curse. It was partially his fault that the raven-haired boy in front of him felt that way. Once again, Draco hated who he had become. Or, who his father made him become.

Draco took a step closer to the boy, though, he hesitated when Potter glared at him. He gulped. He wanted to apologize for everything he had said over the years yet he was scared for some reason. Maybe it was the fear of getting rejected. Or maybe he was just scared of what his father would do if he found out he wasn't perfect little doll anymore. 

"Show me where you're hurt and maybe I can fix it." Was the best he was able to do at the moment.

Potter raised an eyebrow. "...you?" 

He lifted his chin. "Yes, Potter. I know a few things here or there about the subject."

If he was being honest with himself, he knew more than stuff just here and there. The Manor library was huge and he prided himself on having read nearly every medical book there was. Being a Healer was his secret passion. Just another thing he could never act on. 

"Well...my ankle mostly. And my back. There's also my chest. It hurts to breathe." 

He was hesitant to tell Draco this information. Draco guessed he felt odd about sharing such personal information to a person he would be normally glaring daggers at. He couldn't blame him. 

"Are they superficial or internal?" Harry scrunched up his nose in confusion. Draco sighed. "I mean does it hurt on the outside or on the inside."

"Oh, um, on my back it's mostly some bruises. Maybe some cuts. My ribs and ankle hurt on the inside." He was clearly embarrassed by having Draco simplify it for him. Heat blossomed in Draco's chest all the way down to his toes when he saw the faint pink blossom across Potter's cheeks. 

Draco cleared his throat to focus. "Yes, well, I'll have to go ask Bramble for some bandages and whatnot. Try not to put too much pressure on anything while I'm gone. We don't need the Boy-Who-Lived dying on us..."

He picked up Potter's finished dinner plate from the table as he made his way to the door. Draco couldn't help but look back at Harry. The boy was perfection in coffee hues; his hair was the color of dark roasted beans but his skin was all latte. He had that shy look about him teens often get when they've grown too much too fast, like they aren't really sure about being a man just yet. He was skinny, but the way his clothes hung gave away the muscle beneath, likely from his years of playing Quidditch.

Draco's heart clenched. How could someone hate someone so..so...perfect. He'd wanted to hate him just like his father did for long but could never bring himself to do so. Something about him just radiated warmth. 

Draco came back five minutes later with his arms full of various medical supplies. As he started organizing on the bedside table he noticed Harry was lost in thought. His eyes were glazed over in a saddened state.

"Potter," He says. He frowns when he doesn't get a reaction. "Potter," He repeats a little louder. He places a hand on the boy's shoulder to get him to snap out of it. Harry suddenly pulls back as though he was burned.

Draco decided not to press for answers despite his worry. He had already pushed more boundaries than most likely get in weeks.

"Potter, can you please remove your shirt?" 

Harry bit his lip. He clearly was nervous but still obliged. "Fine..." 

Very slowly he started pulling the fabric of his thin body. It was a very tedious job as he didn't want to reawaken any old wounds. Draco had to stifle the small gasp that came from him. 

Harry holds his arm to the light, his skin ghostly in the glow of the moon. On each arm there are great purple welts that will only deepen over the coming week. Bruises and cuts were scattered across his abdomen like a disease. The worst of it was on his back. There were years worth of scaring hidden underneath the freshly made gashes and swelling. 

Draco felt something in his chest break. Draco knew abuse like the back of his hand but his father had never left a physical mark on him (if you didn't count the mark on the forearm). Something about seeing if front of him made it seem all too vivid. 

Draco tried to redirect his attention to keep Harry from feeling uncomfortable. Harry caught on anyways and looked the opposite way. Draco realized he had been waiting for a reaction.

"How bad is it?"

Draco held his breath. There were at least one or two bruised ribs he could see. Some of the cuts looked like they were affected as well. His ankle could be broken yet he couldn't be sure yet. He's lucky he's wizard, Draco thought, or else this would be much more painful.

"It'll take time." He concludes after mauling it over in his head. "But it can be healed. Nothing seems to be permanent." He picks up a small glass bottle filled with a purple-ish liquid. "Drink this. It'll numb the pain."

He takes it and mumbles a small 'thank you'. Harry tips his head back to drink it but stops as the bottle reaches his lips.

"Malfoy?" 

"Yes, Potter?" 

"Why do you care so much?" His bright, emerald eyes were filled with so much emotion it was impossible to tell exactly what he was feeling. Draco stopped what he was doing to look down at the boy. 

Why did he care so much? He was putting himself at risk just by being here. He could have just left as soon as he got Potter to safely yet he hadn't. If he was being honest with himself, he could have even alerted the Deatheaters to Potter's location if he wanted too. His father would even be proud of him for once. 

"Believe it or not Potter, I'm not a complete ignorant prat. I know when there are boundaries and when or when I haven't crossed them. You just happened to be passed that point." 

He didn't know idea how true the statement was. Draco didn't take the time to find out. He wanted to move on from the conversation as it was rapidly becoming too personal. 

He squeezes some of the salve on his hand. "This is going to hurt."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 2280
> 
> Published: 7/21/19


	8. Youth

DRACO

Draco wakes suddenly, eyes flung so wide each iris is a perfect orb of turquoise silver. After a second or two his head turns like some Halloween dummy, mouth slackened, "What the hell?'

Potter was standing over him with a smug look on his face. The pillow he had just used to smack Draco awake was cradled under his arm while a platter of food was held up by the other.

"Sleep well?" Potter asked, raising the corner of his mouth to a smirk.

"Bugger off." He groans, sitting up and rubbing his eyes clear of sleep. His heart skipped a beat when he saw the harsh sunlight filtering through the curtains. 

"What time is it?" 

Potter places the food down on his bedside table. "Nearly afternoon. I tried to wake you earlier but you wouldn't budge."

Draco nearly had a heart attack right then. Father was definitely going to kill him now! He had planned to sneak in, grab Potter's things without getting caught, and get back safely to the manor without missing lunch.

Shivers ran up his spine as he remembered the call from last night. First in the alley with Potter and the second as he had been preparing to sleep.

The pain has an unpleasant warmth to it, eating at Draco's stomach. There's nausea too, just enough to make him hold onto the table for support and breath slow. He didn't even realize he had fallen until another spike up pain blossomed in his head. He often prized himself in ignoring pain and just rocking on regardless, but that just wasn't possible right now. It owned him, dominating every thought, controlling every action.

"Malfoy...?" A voice rings out from somewhere. It was fuzzy but he can barely see the outline of a brunet boy shaking him. Without meaning to, his body curls into something fetal, something primeval and all the while the pain burns and radiates. 

He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had to be seething. He had never experienced this much pain before that wasn't the cruciatus curse. They must have found out that Harry was no longer at his relatives. They had been planning an attack for months. Draco smiled weakly through the pain. He had somehow outwitted the monster who had destroyed his life without even trying.

Another jolt of pain was sent through him as he convulsed on the ground. The dark lord was calling for a meeting for the next day. He needed someone. He needed...

"FERRET!" Harry yells, smacking him across the face again with the pillow.

"Will you stop with the pillow!" 

Harry hits him again, messing up Draco's hair even more in the process. "No, it's only fair. I've been trying to get your attention for the past three minutes."

Draco glares at him. "I was...thinking."

Draco took the time to notice how healthy the boy looked compared to yesterday. The bruising on his face were now only a faint yellow and the mismatched cuts that had littered his arms were beginning to become small pink scars.

"I don't have time for your thinking. I need my wand."

Draco stood up and patted his hair back down. He was fully awake now after several full blows to his head. "And how do you suppose we do that? Just march straight up to their doorstep and knock asking if you can have your stuff back? No, you need a plan." 

Harry huffs. "I know that. And I do." Draco lifts an eyebrow causing Harry to roll his eyes. "We just need to get them out of the house for an hour or two. Then we can just climb in through my window. It doesn't have locks on it anymore."

"...anymore?"

Harry hesitated. "Yes. None of the windows do. They couldn't figure out how to open the windows and ended up switching up the hinges." 

Draco knew he was obviously lying but didn't push farther. 

"Well that's a great plan. Let me just take a shower and we'll be on our way."

Harry perked up. "Really?"

"No you imbecile. You haven't even told me how you would get them out of the house yet!"

Harry's nose scrunched up in annoyance. Draco would have said it was cute if wasn't already to distracted by the problem at hand. Besides, he felt a tiny bit guilty for yelling. But he did just smack him over the head.

"You could have just said so. No need to be a git about it." 

Harry sat back down on his bed and started swinging both his legs underneath him. Draco was surprised even his limp was almost non-existent. 

"We can slip a few fake tickets in their mailbox to a wrestling show in the city. They'll believe anything. If we're lucky, they'll get a hotel and not come back for the night."

Draco thought it over. He was smarter than people gave him credit for. They'll get Bramble to cast an illusion spell over some paper and they'll be off. He'll be lying if he said he wasn't curious to see more on how the boy lived. 

He voiced his thoughts to Potter who agreed. The two of them went downstairs to get Bramble. She quickly agreed, apologizing for not recognizing Harry sooner (which made Potter flush), and even offered to let them use her owl. 

When all said was done, their only issue was that they now had to wait for nightfall. They had time to waste. Well, Potter did. Draco's mind was uneasy at the thought.

"I still need to get my school supplies for 6th year." Harry mentions, "but I can't be recognized. Dumbledore will have a fit if he found out I left the Dursley's early."

"Even knowing how they treat you?" Draco asks surprised. 

Harry shrugs. "I have no idea what's it to you, but yes. It's for the greater good. Besides, as soon as I leave you'll probably have the Prophet up here taking your story on how the Boy-Who-Lived is abused by his aunt and uncle."

Draco flinched at how easily the words 'abused' came out of the boy's mouth. Greater good my arse, Draco thought, he could have died before the dark lord ever even got to him. 

"I've told you already Potter. I have boundaries. And plus, I'm coming with you."

Hie eyes widened a little bit. "What did you say?"

"Why, do you halve ale in your ears? I said I'm coming with. Do you expect me to sit around and do nothing all day? I need some proper clothes as well." Draco huffed.

"Well...I guess." He looked down at himself. "It couldn't hurt to get some new clothes myself either." Harry slipped on his shoes, no doubt thinking about the blonde's words last night. 

"Does Bramble know any disillusionment Charms that still allow me to see ourselves?"

"Surely. She's a very skilled witch. There was to be something."

×•×•×•×•×•×•×

And surely there was. A quick 'Diviorpus' charm sent the boys in Diagon Alley safely. 

Only the two boys would be able to recognize themselves. If anyone else looked in direction, they would see a red haired boy with freckles scattering his face and a blonde with buck-like teeth walking side by aide. 

Let's just say Malfoy did not enjoy getting the shorter end of the deal. 

"Calm down Malfoy. No one can recognize you beside me so I don't see what the big deal is."

"I'm a ginger, that's what! Couldn't she think of anything else?!"

"Would you rather be recognized?"

Draco grumbled under his breath but moved on. 

The crowd has a life of its own, the vibrant clothes shine in the afternoon sunlight and the people move like enchanting shoals of fish. There is chatter between sellers and buyers, old friends catching up, new friends made. It's busy for sure, but the hustle and bustle brings a life to the tiny alleyway Draco wouldn't want to be without.

Harry looked up from the paper that the school supplies were written. They had just left Gringotts (which they both had to cut their palm a little and bleed out to prove it was them) so each of them had a nice stack of galleons to last them the trip.

"We should get clothes first and the books last as they'll be the heaviest to carry. We can take multiple trips if necessary." 

As the two started back down the street to find a clothing store, Draco had to say it felt oddly pleasant not having glares or insults follow him. He felt...free.

Harry grabbed his hand and pulled him inside a store called Chlodmer's Cloaks and Clothing. A tinge of pink swept across his cheeks at the sudden action. 

The inside of the store was a sensory overload compared to the bland exterior. Vibrant yellows and reds popped from every direction. The walls were plastered with posters showing off new flashy clothing in every direction. Exotic hats and robes on shelves called for his attention as well. He didn't know where to look.

The store keeper behind the counter greeted the two warmly. He was a man in his late forties dressed in a long black robe that reminded Draco of his godfather. "What can I get you two boys today?" 

"We're just looking for some casual clothing and a new pairs of Hogwarts robes. Do you happen to have anything?"

He smiles. "Of course. What houses?"

"Gryffindor and Slytherin, please sir."

The man raises an eyebrow. "An unlikely relationship."

Harry looked down at their interlocked hands and quickly dropped them. His face quickly grew beet red along with Draco's. "Oh- we're not- we don't-"

"Don't worry child." he cuts him off. "The wife was in Slytherin. No need to fret."

The two were embarrassed into silence as they followed the man to the back of the store. Draco made sure to put a good distance between themselves just in case. 

"Right, well. I'll leave you two to it." He says; making his way back to his counter.

A heavy silence settled over Draco and Harry, thicker than the uneasy tension in the atmosphere. Unsettled eyes glanced unceremoniously around and tried to avoid catching other glances.

A loud cough attracts his attention. "Well... I'll be over here if you need anything." Harry gestures towards the right side of the room. Draco awkwardly nods and turns the opposite way.

Curse that stupid bat.

×•×•×•×•×•×•×

Draco had since wandered off from getting a new uniform and to the more casual clothing the store provided. He had to contain his excitement at all the muggle wares they had. They had a very unique fashion.

Besides the clothes he was wearing now, he had never worn something that wasn't meant for a wizard. Just looking at the stuff felt like a small act of rebellion and any second now his father would be dragging him back to the manor to punish him. 

But he wasn't. No one would even recognize him. 

He felt a genuine smile grow for the first time in months. 

He picked up a burgundy shirt of a rack and held it up to himself in the mirror. It was a red turtleneck that he thought looked nicely with the pair of pants he had picked out earlier. 

He was about to add it too the pile when a voice came out of nowhere, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin.

"I thought maroon and brown didn't go together?"

Draco turned around to see the face of smirking Potter the second time that day. He swore he could have strangled him right then and there. 

"Don't do that!" He hits Potter on the back of the head. "You almost gave me a heart attack in the middle of the store!"

Harry crossed his arms. "I'm just trying to figure out why you're in the muggle section if you despise them so much."

He scoffs and quickly comes up with an excuse. "They're just clothing, Potter. Why should there be a difference?" 

"I don't know. Just thought it was interesting to see you over here."

Draco rolls his eyes but shuts up in hopes the other would leave him alone. Sadly, that was too much to hope for. 

The brunette walks over to his pile and lifts a dark green flannel for a full view. He turned around and lifted an eyebrow. "More green? Really?"

Before he could stop himself, he opens his mouth to reply. "Try it on."

"Wait, what?"

"Try it on, we don't have all day. It matches your eyes."

"O-oh." Harry's face quickly turns red. He starts walking towards the changing room but Draco grabs his sleeve. 

"Wait."

"What this time?" Harry scrunches his nose.

Draco goes looking back in the pile and pulls out a regular black shirt. "Put this on underneath it and leave the other shirt unbuttoned."

"Oookay..."

It was minutes later that Harry came back out of the dressing room. Draco had to stop himself from staring. There was no point in denying it. Potter was downright attractive.

His cheekbones weren't especially high and his nose was a little too long to be perfect, but there was an undeniable symmetry to his features and perhaps that's what held Draco so captivated. The dark green brought out his color in his eyes just as he thought it would. They were the glimmering color of emerald, sparkling in the light above like a freshly brewed potion.

"Nice," was all he managed to get out.

"Was that a compliment Malfoy?"

"Don't let it get to your head."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 2266
> 
> Published: 8/3/19


	9. Sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm going to continue most of this story from Draco's third-person limited P.O.V guys. I find it much more intriguing to write in. Also, pleaseee spam me with comments. They make my day :)

CHAPTER EIGHT

[Sorry]

I think I'm going to continue most of this story from Draco's third-person limited P.O.V guys. I find it much more intriguing to write in. Also, pleaseee spam me with comments. They make my day :)

DRACO

The Standard Book of Spell, Grade 6? Check.

Advanced Potion-Making? Check.

Confronting the phaseless? Check.

A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration? Check.

Advanced Rune Translation? Check.

Flesh-Eating Trees of the World? Check.

Draco huffed as he placed the last stack of textbooks on his bedside table. It was nearly eight at night and they only had just finished their shopping. Most of their time was spent either commuting back and forth from the inn or in various clothing shops. To say the least, he has exhausted. But he knew the biggest part of the day was yet to come.

"You ready?" Draco whispered to the smaller boy beside him. Harry was looking down at his feet with his jaw clenched and hands shaking mildly as they gripped the edge of his shirt. He was obviously nervous about returning to that ghastly place so soon. Draco couldn't blame him, he felt the same way about returning to the Manor. His stomach dropped at just the thought.

The blonde was still surprised by how much their behaviors had changed around each other so quickly in a span of twenty-four hours. One thing he learned after all these years was that your behavior was fluent on who you were with. With father, he was so uptight, focused on being the perfect son. Pansy and Blaise, although they were different, he still had to keep a reputation up around. Harry...was different. He didn't force him to change at all, nor molded into what he should be. He could be himself for once without any barriers holding him back.

"No." He answers simply, "But it's not like I have much choice, do I?" He chuckles and gives a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. Draco was about to comment on it when Harry cut him off.

"We better get going if we want to get to get there on time..."

"Oh! Yes. Right. My bad." Draco scratches the back of his neck. He didn't know why honestly. Perhaps it was just the awkwardness of the situation.

Harry raises an eyebrow. "That's a first."

"Oh, shut it Potter."

It didn't take long for the two boys to quickly change clothes and head downstairs. Bramble met them and sent them off with an embarrassing kiss on the cheek and a hug. Even Harry who barely knew him. By the time she was done he was blushing like mad.

"Come back safely or I swear to Merlin I'll tie the both of you up and let the shopkeeper's hounds next door have you!"

"We will, Bramble. Love you."

Draco didn't have the heart to tell her he probably wouldn't be coming back if all went to plan. He was going straight to the Manor after he was done. He was a deadman as it was already. He didn't want to drag on his punishment more than he had too.

But the tiny voice in his head had given him a little bit of hope. Perhaps this is the miracle she had mentioned? If they could find you they would have already. Going back would be such a waste, wouldn't it? To finally get your dreams fulfilled to foolishly throw it back at the universes face. Maybe you could be safe. Safe with Potter.

"Let's go Malfoy."

Draco snapped out of it and followed the smaller boy down the darkened ally towards the Leaky Cauldron. There were still a few stragglers roaming the streets so Harry quickly pulled down the hood from his sweater to cover his face. Draco only wished he could do the same.

The stench of mead and firewhiskey hit him as soon as they entered the small pub. It wasn't as crowded as the night before but still proved to be a challenge to navigate. Especially with both of them trying to keep their identity secret. 

Draco spotted an open pathway towards the door and hurriedly grabbed Harry's hand to pull him through. The brunet gave a surprised yelp at first but calmed when he saw who it was. 

He immediately relaxed as soon as they were out. Harry had let a long relaxed sigh before reaching into his pocket to bring out some galleons. Draco knew he was calling for the knight bus.

The two waited in comfortable silence. Harry had been taken to using a nearby bench under the bus stop. He could have been mistaken for a sleeping homeless man if Draco didn't know any better. For the secound time that day, he couldn't help but stare in pure wonder of the beauty of the boy. He had curled my dark locks, that always danced in between a black and brown so that they hung in more waves than curls. His features were small and perfectly related; his nose deliciously interrogative at the tip. Harry's brows and lashes, drawn in a darker hue, gave touches of character and distinction.

"Like what you see?" Harry mumbled out. Draco nearly choked on thin air. He probably looked like a pop-eyed goldfish with how wide his eyes went. He quickly regained himself though, coughing as if nothing happened. 

"I was waiting to see how long it took for the ketchup in your eyebrow to fall into your eye." 

It was Harry's turn to be embarrassed as his eyes flew open to see what he was talking about. He glared at the other when he felt nothing there. Draco only gave a mischievous smirk back. 

×•×•×•×•×•×•×

Draco hurriedly slurped up the rest of the hot chocolate before chucking the plastic cup in the bin outside of the seemingly empty household. It seemed that they had seemed to take the bait after all. Potter was right after all. 

Looking at the house you would never expect to find anything inside other than a perfect family. The house was tall and narrow, perhaps only twelve feet wide at the front, but it stretched some thirty feet back like a giant shoebox. It was two stories high and had a one-story extension at the rear for the kitchen. The wooden framed sash windows had no light emitting from them as far as he could see. A small rose garden had been planted in front carefully planned and loved, though he doubted any of the inhabitants had done any real work on it.

Harry was staring up at it nervously. He was cradling his right arm as if old memories were resurfacing. Draco went to place his hand on the boy's shoulder to get his attention but stopped himself. Maybe that wasn't the best option right now. 

"Potter," Draco whispers softly, his words echoing throughout the quiet neighborhood. "We need to hurry if you want to get done before they get back."

"Yeah...yeah, let's go."

Harry started walking ahead of him towards the gloomy household, not even bothering to look behind to see if Draco was following him. The blonde watched him worryingly. He didn't want Harry to push himself into something he wasn't ready for, even if had only been a day since he had left. 

Draco caught up to him easily seeing as he was taller. He had been expecting the boy to stop when he got under his bedroom window, but no. He had continued to the gate leading to the yard behind the house. 

"What are you doing? I thought we had a plan!" 

Harry sighs. "We do, Malfoy. But how do you expect us to get up there? We have to this the muggle way. Here it is- hold on." Harry crept around the house and led them to a small wooden shed in the backyard. Draco winces loudly when a loud shriek from the rusted hinges sound through the night air as Harry pulls the door open. 

He waits impatiently at the edge of the fence as Harry digs around inside the tiny building for Salazar know what. He had to bite his tongue in order to snap at the boy for taking so long.

Finally, Harry's head pops out with a small grin. He was holding a rope and a small step stool in either hand. He briefly handed them to Draco as he relocked the shed to erase any evidence they were there. 

Smart.

The two wandered back to the front of the house where Harry's window was. The bushes they had jumped into the previous night to cushion their fall were still flattened from their landings. Draco had to stifle a laugh looking at their failed attempt to cover it up. 

Harry set down the stool and was now holding the rope, staring above where a hook you would usually see holding a flag empty. Draco admitted the boy had this much more planned out than he thought. Or maybe he had done this before, he thought sadly. 

With the skills of a professional quidditch player, he threw the looped side of the rope around it in his first try. Draco had seen him play countless times but they didn't stop him getting impressed. Throwing wasn't even a seeker skill. 

"Ok, I'll climb up first and just open the door for you, okay?" Harry asked. Draco was hesitant. Harry might looked healed but he doubted he had regained enough of his strength to climb the rope. Draco had seen how much he had struggled to carry his books back to the inn earlier that day. He was still weak and no doubt suffering some sort of fatigue from the fast-paced medicine.

"No, I'll do it." 

"...you?"

Draco felt déjà vu wash over him. "Yes. Me. You're still weak. If something goes wrong, I need you in your best condition when we run away." 

Harry huffed but otherwise stayed silent as Draco took the rope from his hands. He analyzed how far it was up. He didn't have much arm strength himself but if he stood from the top of the stepstool he just might be able to make it. 

He took in a long breathe before placing one foot on the wall and pulling himself upwards. Draco just hoped there weren't any noisy neighbors watching from there windows or they would be in much more trouble than he had signed up for. 

His muscles ached as he pulled himself up on the window seal. Thankfully, all he had to do was slipe the panel up to get in. Five years of Quidditch and not a single muscle built. Bloody unfair, he thinks, throwing himself on the hard floorboard.

Standing back up, he wipes himself off and looks back out the window to see Harry waiting for him expectantly. The boy gives him a little thumbs up and he can't help but chuckle a little bit. 

Now for the easy part, Draco muses. The room was perfectly clean cleaned as if yesterday had never happened. The door was backed on its hinges and the screw sized indents in the wall were already patched it. Draco scrunched up his nose. These people were more intent or orderliness than his own parents. That, or they were just very intent on forgetting Harry ever existed. 

Despite the house being empty, Draco couldn't help himself to try to make his steps as quiet as possible. Nonetheless, he opened the door and tipped toed through the dark hallway. The cool banister at his fingertips as he went down down the stairs sent shivers down his back. It reminded him of the time he had tried sneaking out when the abuse first started. He had been caught and not let out of the darkened dungeons for days. Maybe it was his paranoia, but he felt the same eyes on him as he did that night. Fear built up in his throat. 

Draco decided he needed to get out of there as soon as possible. Harry had told him where his trunk was, so if he could hurry up and grab it, there wouldn't be any need to stay longer than needed. 

Draco let out out a sigh of relief when he left the smooth surface of a light switch on the wall. He quickly flipped it on and turned around to make sure no one was watching him. Of course, just as he thought, nothing. It didn't help the sinking feeling in his stomach though. 

Getting on his knees, he examines the cupboard Harry had described. It was usually small with golden vent gates. He could barely make out a child's handwriting that had been painted over. He quickly tried the handle to find it locked. He cursed. Of course the blasted muggles had to go and make things difficult for him. It was one of those rare moments he appreciated his father's countless lessons on wandless magic as a child. 

"Alohomora," he whispers at the golden nob beneath his hand. The gears inside turn and come lose with a small click. He tries the nob again and smiles slightly when it opens. 

Draco was so focused on getting the large trunk and broom out of the cupboard he hadn't even noticed the large figure looming above him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao sorry y'all. I gotta find a way to end chapters in ways other than cliffhangers. Also! I'm back in school again plus robotics every day after school so updates might get even funkier. Sorrrry D:
> 
> Words: 2256
> 
> Published: 8/25/19


	10. Runaway

**CHAPTER NINE**

**[runaway]**

**DRACO**

Draco's body was unbraced for an attack. One moment he was struggling to carry Harry's things out of the cramped cupboard, then the next thing he knew he was on the ground holding his bleeding nose with a ringing in his skull. 

"Get out of my house you dirty murder!" A pubescent voice yells out, swinging his fist blindly in the darkness over him. Draco could barely make out the outline of a largely overweight boy towering over him. He quickly tried to scramble back to find the heavy truck trapping his leg underneath it’s weight. 

"Get out! Get out!" 

Draco stares up at the frantic, sluggish moving body in a daze state. His mind hadn't quite caught up on what has happening yet. His face read like he had just been insulted instead of having been thrown down to the ground. It was crinkled just slightly at the eyebrows and his mouth dropped open just barely enough in disbelief. When it finally did set it, he almost scoffed out loud. 

Fires of fury and hatred were smoldering in his grey narrowed eyes as he weighed the pros and cons of the various and creative means available to him for exacting revenge. He  _ was _ a slytherin after all. No way in Merlin was someone going to step on  _ his _ toes and get away with it. 

Draco felt his body burn that way it always did before he was flooded with adrenaline. He quickly found the back handles of the trunk and chucked it off his leg before standing face first with the figure. Now that Draco had better vision, he could see through the glittering moonlight coming through the windows that the man was in a red oversize onesie that read  _ Smeltings Wrestling Team  _ and had an obnoxiously loud blonde bowl-cut. Draco's face shriveled up in disgust at the sight of snot on his upper lip. He unconsciously made the connection between him and an over-sized baby. 

And  _ oh boy.  _ This  _ had _ to be one of those bloody so-called family members thats caused those bruises on Harry’s face. 

Draco didn't know who threw the first punch, but suddenly Draco's fist was slamming into the other’s face and sinking into his stomach . Blood poo led pulled around their upper lip.  He had never punched anyone before, so he was incredibly surprised at the pain that blazed up his arm as his fist connected with their jaw.  They stumbled apart for a brief second to observe they other before diving back at each other, eyes narrowed in determination. 

He dodged his fist and came up with his own; for a brief instant, their cerulean blue eyes widened before he managed to tilt his head back and slam it into His. Stars burst in Draco's vision but he shook it off, blinding throwing a sloppy kick.

She stepped back, easily evading the kick. "INTRUDER!" He yelled again, his bottom lip quivering just slightly. Draco had no doubt he probably looked intimidating now. Pansy had once told him that when he was in a fight, his face changed into something else entirely. His face shifted into something more stoic and unchanging, because his eyes would hold everything it would  ever need to. A lethal mix of cunning and passionate anger that any other  slytherin would be jealous of. 

The overweight boy threw his body weight behind the fist that edged closer to Draco’s face, it hit my jaw with such force blood pooled into his mouth. Pain erupted from the point of impact. With Draco’s own two hands he blindly grasped the other’s head in his hands and brought his knee cap up to their noses. There was a blunt crack and he released him. Crimson leaked from both his nostrils and his nose was twisted right. The boy wasn’t done yet though, as he drew his fist back again and it ploughed into his stomach, it was like getting his with a bludger head on. Draco’s guts smashed together, blood vessels bursting. He repaid this by punching their jaw, his fist collided with all his small frame’s body weight. He continued this battering until the loud thunk was heard and the brain-dead barbarian fell to the floor.

Draco didn't know how long he stayed there staring down on the unconscious body. He glanced down at his bloody hands. His mind was blank once again, filled with the sad TV static he couldn’t quite shake off.

~~~

**HARRY**

Harry tried for the nearly eighth time to pull himself up from the bedrooms window ledge, and unsurprisingly, fell back to the ground arse-first once again. He nearly growled in frustration.  _ What the hell was taking him so long? _

An ever-growing knot in his stomach was growing the longer he was in there by himself. His brain immediately waved it off as the usual suspension you get when your bitter school rival was in your house (could he call it that?) by himself. But something was still off about that statement. What if something actually happened to him?

He was just about to try for the ninth time when he heard a caramel rich voice come from behind him. 

“Oh Dear, what are you doing monkeying around at this time of night?”

He whipped around, hand flying to his backpocket where he usually put his wand, and nearly prepared to hex someone into the next solace. Harry let out a sigh of relief when he saw Ms. Figg in a yellow coat standing only a few feet away.

“I, uh…” He struggled to come up with an answer. What was he supposed to say?  _ Oh my (somewhat) mortal enemy who just so happened to randomly wake up in my bed his morking and save me from my god awful relatives in the process is lurking around my house looking for my stuff so we can run away?  _ Yeah, no.

“It's kind of a long story…” He settled on. He scratched the back of his head awkward sheepish smile. “And I kind of don’t have the time to explain, I need to get up the win-”

He stopped midword when he noticed the small brown wagon she had following behind her. An idea formed in his head.

“Perfect.”

~~~

Harry felt like he was out of place walking down the steps at night. He wasn’t supposed to be out of his room without permission. It was one of their biggest rules. Despite knowing no one was there, he couldn’t shake off anxiety that someone was about to come out of nowhere and hit him. He looked over his back at least three times already and it had only been five steps.

This entire thing was to nerve-wracking. He had no idea how he thought he could do this. He barely brought himself to leave the first time, how could he possibly manage it this time? It was like a sick monster was creeping up from the floorboards and was grasping at his ankles every step he took. 

“Potter?” A voice rang out from the darkness. Harry’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest.

“Malfoy?” He hissed. “What the hell are you doing taking this long? We don’t have all night.” He wanted to get out of here as soon as possible and the git wasn’t helping him much. The bile in his throat was rising every minute they were in the ill-fated house. That is, until he reached the last step and swirled around the wall that separated them. 

To say he was shocked would be to say the least. He was  _ speechless _ .

He glanced down at the lumpy body in between both of them. Then do the blood pooled at Malfoy's lip and stained on his hands. It didn't take long to connect the dots.

"What in Godric's name..." He lets out a gasp. He takes two long strides over to where Dudley's body laud in the ground and knelt down. "Did you  _ kill _ him?!"

He frantically goes to checks his pulse the way his Year 3 teacher had hold him once. It took a hot minute to find it under all the fat but let out a sigh of relief when he felt a small steady bump fight under the back of his jaw.

When he turned at last to face Harry there was no trace of tears, not in his eyes or in track marks on his reddening face. His eyes were narrowed, rigid, cold, hard. "What would it have mattered if I did? Hadn't he hurt you?"

" So what if he caused me more than my fair square of bruises! That's not a reason to kill someone!"

Malfoy looked as if he couldn't believe what Harry was saying. "He had thrown the first hit."

"Yes, but did you forget this was  _ his house?" _

"Did you forgot it was supposed to be yours too?"

Harry threw up his hands. “You’re insufferable!”

Malfoy scoffed. “Please, I can’t believe your even taking his side on this.”

“I’m not taking ‘ his side’ because first of all, he’s unconscious.” He gestured dramatically at the sack of meat below him. “And second, I would want to be as far away from this house as humanly possible if it wasn’t for my wand and trunk. It’s called, doing the right thing.” 

Harry sat up and wiped the dirt off his jeans. Malfoy’s eyes travelled with him.  His brows creased and face tensed as if he was looking at something a yard behind Gryfindors head.

Harry takes the time to notice that his lip was busted as well. He winced at the sight of it. He would have to Episkey it up when he finally got his wand and out of Privet drive. Until then…

He stepped over Dudley to get closer to Draco. He had to idea where the urge came from but he reached up and wiped the blood off his lip and chin with his thumb. He was almost done when he met Draco’s watchful gaze and awkwardly pulled away. 

_ Where the hell did that come from? _ He thought to himself. He had to remind himself that this was the person who constantly made fun of the Weasleys and called Hermione a Mudblood.  _ Don’t be stupid. _

Harry coughed to clear the tension. He bent back down and found his trunk as if nothing had happened. He greedily opened it up as fast as he could and searched for his wand. His face immediately brightened when he felt the cool surface of the wood underneath his fingers. 

There was something so intoxicating about finally being able to do magic again after so long. Being reunited with his wand every summer was amazing. It felt as if he was deflated ball finally being put back into use. He relished the feeling. 

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at him. Harry was about to tell him to shut it when he remembered Ms. Figg standing out in the cold.

“Oh shoot!” He shot up, closing the top of the trunk and starting to drag it towards the door. “He have to go.”

Malfoy didn’t question him. He simply rolled his eyes and helped pick up the other side. 

The two struggled the go get out the door. When they finally set it down on the damp grass Ms. Figg quickly came over to check on Harry. She lifted Harry’s chin to examine him for any injuries before she had even noticed Draco standing awkwardly to the side. 

“My heavens, a  _ Malfoy? _ What have you gotten yourself into dear?”

Malfoy’s face scrunched up. Harry’s did slightly as well. 

“It’s fine, Arabella. He’s with me.”

“Well I don’t find that very comforting either.” She glared Draco down with a tilt of her chin. Harry felt himself anger slightly. _ Had she even met Draco before?  _

“Did you want the story or not?” He says, a warning laced into his tone of voice. She nodded.

Harry tried to fit all the most important details in without giving away why  _ exactly _ they had ran away. She was silent but nodded her head throughout the whole thing listening. 

“Oh, I guess I should go owl Dumbledore then. We might be able to obliviate his memory as well,” she gestured to Malfoy as if he wasn’t capable of hearing all of what she was saying. Harry saw the blonde’s hand tightened into a fist out of the corner of his eye. 

“No.” He spits before thinking.

“Pardon?”

Dumbledore would make him go back to the Dursleys. The thought terrified him. 

“No, we’re not contacting Dumbledore. We can handle this ourselves.” 

“I have no choice dear. I’m under strict orders to tell Dumbledore everything odd that happens on the neighborhood.”

“I said  _ no _ .” He repeats again. He was starting to panic now. Malfoy noticed and prepared to catch him if he fell. He couldn’t go back. Not now, not ever. No. No no _ no.  _ He refused. 

“Calm down dear, I’m sure the Dursely’s will be pleased to see you again.” She smiles warmly at him and grabbing his wrist. “Now come on-”

“ _ Petrificus Totalus!”  _ He yells at suddenly, yanking his hand out of grasp and pointed his wand at the old woman. She falls completely frozen to the ground. Harry’s eyes widen. 

“We have to go. Now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yooo sorry this took so long :/ Also, Thank you guys SO much for all the kind comments??? Like what the hell they actually made my day. All of them.


	11. Runway

**CHAPTER TEN**

**[Someone to Stay]**

**_Warning: Lots of dialogue._ **

**DRACO**

For the second time, the two of them were running away from the muggle house as fast as their wobbly knees would take them. But this time, they had a nearly fifty pound trunk balanced between them while angry, magical cats and maybe evil government officials chased after them. Draco dearly hoped this wasn’t becoming a habit. 

He briefly wondered what the hell that woman had been feeding those cats to run so fast. And why did she carry them in a wagon if they can  _ perfectly _ find a scent home. Because he’s sworn they’ve gone at least a mile haven’t lost them yet. 

“Stop!” Draco yelled in between breaths.“Stop it! I have an idea.”

Harry slowed to a halt beside him. He looked even worse for wear. Draco remembered The boy’s bruised ribs and winced at the thought. “Well, what is it?” He wheezes out with a hand on his side.

“We’re  _ wizards _ .”

“Okay, yes, your point _? _ ”

Draco rolled his eyes and grabbed the wand right out of Harry’s hand. It felt warm in his grip, like it was made for him. Harry’s eyes widen and he jumped up trying to grab it from where the taller one was holding it above his head. “What the hell Malfoy, give it back! What are you, four?!”

“Merlin’s beard Potter, calm down! Since you aren’t going to do anything yourself, might as well take it upon myself.” He set the trunk down on his side and the brunette begrudgingly did the same. “Where’s your broom?”   
  


Harry frowned “Are you an idiot? We can’t carry the entire trunk  _ and _ two people on one broom. That’s outrageous. Plus, someone will see us!” 

“Can you just listen to me for once?” Malfoy hissed, “I know what I’m doing.”

Harry’s eyes lingered on the wand in Malfoy’s hand. They narrowed slightly, but decided to trust Malfoy seeming that he had no other choice. 

  
  


The broom barely fit inside. It was fit in at an angle and he had to yank it a couple times for it to break free. He has about to reclose it when Draco saw him hesitate. Harry slowly reached inside and grabbed a soft silver cloak.

“We don’t have time to worry about you’re horrible fashion choices right now, Potter. Grab the broom and lets go _.” _

“Malfoy…”

“Yes?”   
  


“You have to promise not to tell anyone about this.”   
  


Draco raised a curious eyebrow. “What, are we breaking more international wizarding rules tonight?”

“Merlin Malfoy. You really are impossible to hold a conversation with.” 

He was about to protest when Harry dropped the broom and wrapped the grey-ish cloth around him. He bit back his surprise. His entire body was just... _ gone _ .

Of course he had seen magic like it before. What were wizards if they hadn’t already figured out how to disappear already? But those cloaks had to be coated with spells and only lasted a day or two. 

“Well that solves one problem I guess.”

“I’m already on my second strike from the Ministry. Last time they didn’t even hesitate to try and snap my wand. Dumb-,” he looked at Draco’s disapproving face, “Well I wouldn’t be here right now without him. But we can’t rely on him right now. So whether or not you like it, we’re on the run until this whole thing gets sorted out. ”

“Oh no, not  _ we _ . I didn’t do anything.”

“You’re an accomplice Malfoy!”

“I didn’t even want to show up here!”

“And do you really think they’ll believe that?” Harry rolled his eyes. “Or are you going to wait until your father bails you out?”

Draco grit his teeth. He didn’t say anything though because he knew Potter was right. He didn’t even want to go back himself. But he knew eventually he’ll have no choice. The mark on his arm was growing hotter with every day that went by. Voldermort’s alliances were everywhere. Any moment someone could turn around and turn him in.  _ Wasn’t he just going to endanger Harry even more?  _

“So until then...” Harry lifted his hand. Draco had to blink twice to understand what he was seeing. Harry was holding out his hand. For  _ him _ . It was a handshake. Something in his stomach twisted in a sickening sense of Déjà vu. “Truce?”

It occurred to him that it must be a daydream. This was redemption. Something he dreamt about since for the past three years and tore him apart piece by piece in the process. Is  _ this  _ what Bramble had mentioned? 

“Draco? Did you miss the part where we don’t have much time, or…?” His hand was still hanging there, slowly pulling it back as if he was realizing a mistake. 

Everything Draco’s father had taught him about not acting desperate flew out the window. He quickly grabbed the hand. It was warmer than he expected, just like his wand.

“Deal. Truce.”

Harry’s eyes widened just slightly as his hand fell back to his side almost to say,  _ ‘well I didn’t think I’ll get this far’ _ . His eyes raced back up to Malfoy’s whos grey ones were staring right back at him. 

“You understand what that means, right?”

“As stated earlier, I’m not four.” He scoffs.

“Right…So can you give me back my wand now?”

“Nope.” He said, popping the ‘p’. 

“What? Why?!”

“I still need to shrink the trunk, idiot.” But there was something in the air as he teased Harry this time. A genuine smile fell on both of the boys face’s.

“And why can’t I do that?”

“You’re horrendous at size charms. You nearly destroyed the entire classroom in third year.”

“How the bloody hell do you know that?”

“Please, everyone knew.”

Draco pushed Potter out of his way and glanced at the trunk. With a flick of his wrist the entire thing was shrunk down to the size of his palm. He bent down and pushed it inside his trouser’s front pocket.

“Careful! I have my potion’s stuff in there and I don’t need Salamander hearts all over my stuff.”

He was about to continue when he rustling from a nearby bush startled the both of them. Harry cursed and started to mount his broom. He threw the cloak at Draco to start wrapping it around them. 

~~~

It had been forever since Draco had ridden a broom with someone. He thinks maybe when he was nine and wanted to impress one of his father’s business associates came over with their child he had wanted to impress them. Even then he wasn’t on the back of the broom so it didn’t really affect him. Only now did he realize how close you had to be.At first he had tried to sit on the edge, but once they were up in the sky that was completely forgotten. He had wrapped his arms around Harry’s wait faster than he Weasley could say  _ ‘bloody hell _ ’. 

But now that they were soaring through the sky, the cloak wrapped around them, Draco could enjoy the night sky. He tilts his head downward, seeking lights that flash, the red and white in the deepest of blue skies. For a moment he is still, feeling the cool air, breathing in a steady rhythm. Then there they are those crazy passing stars, flying high above him he just can’t get enough. 

He’s never actually seen London at night. The city spread below him, and the world suddenly felt so wide and free that he wanted to jump. Lights glittered everywhere just like stars dropping to the earth, huge and small buildings collided in a mixture of shadow and geometry, tiny vehicles rushing along tangled lines of streets creating twisting threads of light - they all intertwined together in a magnificent mess of dream. He was amazed Muggles could create something so beautiful without any help of magic.

“Malfoy, are we still going back to the Inn?” He yells, his dark messy hair rippling through the air.

“Obviously, where else would we go?”

“I don’t know, you’re rich aren’t you? Don’t you have like a safe house or something?” 

“Yes, many. But I prefer the inn. I thought I thought I told you that?”

He’s silent for a moment and all Draco can hear is the wind rushing past his ears. Eventually, he speaks up. “I thought your parents didn’t like her?”

Draco spits a wad of blonde hair out of his mouth. “They don’t.”

“So they don’t know about the inn?”

“Nope.”   
  


An uncomfortable silence settled over them. Draco looks over Harry’s shoulder. Harry looked hard in thought. 

“We won’t be able to stay there forever. They’ll find us eventually.”

“We only have a couple days left until Hogwarts.”

“Oh they’ll definitely find us before then. They’re mad at trying to get rid of me.” 

Draco bites his lip deep in thought. He couldn’t believe he was about to do this. “Well there is  _ one _ …”

“Well?”

It was supposed to be his escape if he ever needed to runaway. It was a flat he had bought with when he was fourteen with a quick  _ confundus _ after his family had taken what his father called a ‘vacation’ called Colmar Alsace in France. (He hadn’t know for certain, but as he thought back to it he was pretty sure he was recruiting new death eaters.) It was the closest he had ever felt to paradise his whole life. He was planning on moving there as soon as he graduated Hogwarts. Did he really want to share this with Potter of all people? He could tell Granger, or Weasley even. Then who knows after that. 

But he swallowed his doubt. They were on a truce. 

“I’ll tell you when we get there. For now, just hurry up.”   
  


Harry leaned forward, edging the broom to its max. 

~~~

“Oh for the love of-” Bramble set down her tea cup in a rush and came running to the doorway where the boys stood. Her small frame nearly tackled them where they stood. “I thought I told you to come back unharmed!”

Draco winced when she grabbed his hand and examined it. They were beginning the bruise under all the dry blood. His ring finger was misshapen just enough to make you wonder if it was broken and the cut on his face was turning a patchy yellow. 

“I’m  _ fine _ , Bramble. It's just a couple of scratches.”

“Oh too hell with that.”

She let go of his hand and went to check over Potter as well. She nodded happily when she saw that he was unharmed. 

“No offense Madam-”   
  


“ _ Bramble.” _ _  
  
_

_“_ No offense Ms _._ Bramble _,_ but may I be excused? I have to send a letter.”  
  


Draco looked at him oddly for a moment as the two exchanged a nod. He ran up the stairs leaving them alone. 

“Draco, what happened!” She says when he’s out of earsight. “And why in Merlin’s name are you all bloodied up!” Draco looked down at his feet as she dragged him away into her quarters. “I’m going to send Narcissa a letter, you stay right here-”   
  
“ _ No! _ ”

She looked taken aback for a moment. “Honey, you need to tell me what's going on or I can’t help you.”

“I can’t bramble. I just can’t. But whatever you do, _ don’t tell them that I’m here _ .”

She looked at him sadly, but moved forward to cup the of his face in her hand. “Let’s just get you cleaned up, yeah?”

Draco shook his head as he stared back into her innocent eyes. Something ticked inside his brain. He couldn’t do this to her. 

“I- I think I can do it myself...Thank you though.

He turned around and walked back up the stairs.

Harry was tieng his letter to his owl as he opened the door. He turned around quickly, startled. “Jeez, knock first.”

He ignores him. “Who’s the letter for?”

“Remus, one of my godfathers. If anyone knows how I'm going to get out of this mess it’s him.” He gives the owl a treat before she starts to flap her wings and fly out the window. “And even then, I don’t want him to worry about me when they find out I’ve gone missing. I trust him not to tell Dumbledore.”   
  
Draco nodded understandingly. His hand traveled to his pocket and took out the doll-house size trunk. Harry watched him carefully as he carefully placed it on the floor between them. He went to go grab the Gryffindor’s wand from the nightstand. 

“Can I?” He asks remembering the other’s hesitance the first time. Harry gives his a short nod which he takes as a yes. 

‘ _ Engorgio!”  _ He shouts. It’s form shifts for a miniscule second before transforming back to its original state. Even Draco is impressed by himself by how perfectly it turned out.

Harry immediately runs over to it to see if anything’s cracked. A sin in relief tells him there isn’t. 

“I wonder if…,” Draco had ever done this before. He didn’t know if there was a charm on it to repel it or, but…

“ _ Accio wand! _ ”

He waited. And waited. But nothing came. Of course he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up. It was probably too far away to summon anyways. Even then, his father most likely locked it up as soon as he realized he was gone, knowing it was going to be one of the first things Draco would do. He would need to go back to the manor if he wanted his wand back.

“You’re going to have to wash the blood off if you want me to help you with those cuts you know.”   
  


Draco rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit guys, thank you so much for 1k followers. Thats crazy. 
> 
> Words: 2300


	12. Someone to Stay

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

**[Someone to Stay]**

**HARRY**

_ Harry's face was smashed against the freezing glass, The only thing separating them being a thin pence held up by his nose. He could see his uncle standing right behind in the mirror waiting for him to drop it. He never missed a chance to punish Harry, even if he had no idea what he had done wrong. _

_ His seven-year-old body's eyes began to droop from exhaustion and hunger. He hadn't had food in what felt like years. His brain wandered into a daydream of gooey pies and cakes waiting for him once he had succeeded. Of course, he never had before. Uncle Vernon always said he didn't ever do it right. But Dudley did. And he got all the food he wanted, all the time. So maybe if he was  _ good _... Right, he'll just have to try harder. _

_ The thought gave him enough energy to straighten up his back, refusing to give up like the older man expected him too. He was careful not to drop the coin in the process. Last time he got really really mad. His face would go purple and his mousy mustache would twitch and Harry would know he would get it really bad. Sometimes he would hurt for days while stuffed in his tiny cupboard. _

_ Uncle Vernon grabbed his head and shoved it harder against the glass. It pushed his nose up roughly and Harry had to stop himself from calling out in pain. _

_ "You earned yourself another hour, boy. You're ungrateful, lazy ass will be in an orphanage just like it should have in the first place if you keep up this act." _

_ Harry tried to shake his head to acknowledge he heard him, as he wasn't supposed to talk. His tiny lip quivered slightly at the sight of the large hands at the back of the neck. Harry hated the most. When he felt so worthless and pathetic when he failed to get away from the hands wrapping around his throat. _

_ To get lost in his thoughts, he failed to notice the small coin slipping. It fell to the washroom's tile floor with a small clink. Before he fully knew what was happening, he was thrown to the floor while his uncle toward over him. _

_ "You worthless boy! Not even able to hold a coin! Why the hell should we keep you under this roof and take care of you if you can't even do that right!" _

_ He amplified his last word with a hard kick to his back. Harry's face scrunched up in pain and effort not the yelp aloud. Harry was not only scared, he was  _ mad _. Not only at himself for messing up such an easy task and sabotaging his only chance for food in days, but at his uncle. He wouldn't have messed up if he didn't push him! His game's were unfair. He always won. He began to think that maybe his uncle didn't want him to win. But why would he do that? He didn't do that for Dudley... _

_ Tiny hands did the best they could by covering his head and the rest of him scrunched up in a ball. _

_ "Your parents were right to go off themselves in a car crash. I would have too if I had a son as pathetic as you." _

_ He grabbed the closest item off the counter, which happened to be the glass toothbrush holder, and chucked it at him. Harry could feel a large gash cut across his cheek and another on his forearm. _

_ "But who knows? They were freaks too. Did you know that? You're just like them! They knew they were unwanted, yet stayed and made everyone else's life worse in the process! They didn't have an ounce of purpose and neither do you!" _

_ He bent down this time and gripped the child's wrist. Harry began to rash around wildly. If you listened enough you could hear the soft gasps coming from his chest as he panicked. _

_ Vernon finally wrapped both of the child's hands apart and pinned them on both sides of his head. Harry rushed to meet his eyes and continued to kick with his feet but it was no use. He was trapped. _

_ Vernon spit in his face. Harry immediately wanted to wipe the disgusted saliva off him, yet was forced to leave it there as his uncle gripped his jaw to force him to meet his cold and ruthless glare. Harry felt his soul shiver up inside him in shame. _

_ " _ Never _ ," he spits in Harry's face again, "disrespect our generosity. We are all you have and will  _ ever _ have. Don't you forget that." _

_ Vernon pulled away just as the scene changed in a misty haze _

_ Harry was in a large room this time. He was at the head of the long, elegant black table. Nearly two dozen pairs of eyes were on him waiting for his next move. Some filled with fear, others filled with admiration. Harry immediately felt the change in the atmosphere _

_ "Where is he!" He shouted. "Where the boy!" _

_ The people closest to him flinched. Harry felt himself sneer at them. He spotted a mop of blonde hair near the end of the table. "Lucius...." He drew. He stood at up his chair and walked closer and closer. Harry's body seem to grow at the fear radiating off the Malfoy. "Lucius, Lucius..." He placed his hand on his shoulder. _

_ "Yes M'lord?" _

_ "You know where the boy is, yes?" He placed a cold, pale hand on his shoulder. His fingertips dug in almost threateningly. _

_ "I...have no idea M'lord. He vanished his room the night prior." _

_ Harry looked to the second blonde on his right. She had long black streaks in her hair and lips red enough to challenge a candy apple. Harry recognized her as Narcissa Malfoy. _

_ She looked towards him, carefully not to make eye contact, and nodded timidly to confirm her husbands words. _

_ "The apparition wards showed no sign of a breach. If he had escaped magicly we would have known. Measures were even taken to permanently seal his bedroom windows. If you would just allow us a little bit of time-" _

_ "Silence!" Harry roared. "I was promised a boy capable of completing the task. I've only allowed you this much leanincy so far because a willing pawn was the last piece I needed to turn over the board. But seeing that you've failed to control him..." he tsk'ed his tongue. "I'll just need to take matters into my own hands, won't I?" _

_ Harry's long black robe slipped down to his elbow exposing the inky snakes slithering in out of a skull on his forearm. The tattoo seemed alive and contagious by the way it made your skin crawl.  _

_ It was all silent as Harry pressed his finger on the mark. Searing fiery bursts pulsated around the mark, intensifying with each dragging twist of his finger, jarring and brutal. With each breath the pain amplified, the muscle quivered, his consciousness ebbed. He let loose a yell of agony. He could tell something was wrong. The call had backfired. _

_ ~~~ _

Harry gasps out of his abysmal nightmare. His cheeks were wet and his body was bathed in a cold sweat. The sheets were twisted around his limbs, probably because he was thrashing in her sleep. His heart pounded against his chest. Harry trembled. The room was entirely dark. No light anywhere. The remnants of his nightmare still clung to his mind, haunting him. Harry had no trouble imagining Voldemort or his uncle lurking near . A loud rustling came from the other side of the room. Harry let out a frightened cry and forcefully pushed his eyes back into his knees. Even his breaths trembled. He swallowed and once again turned to see the endless darkness of the room. He couldn't see anything.

"Harry?" A confused calls out. Harry had to bite his thumb to prevent himself from whimpering. "Potter. Salazar's name- are you okay?"

Harry was in too much of a frantic state to respond. He waited until he heard a soft whisper and the room's warm candle light's flickered on.

The tall figure slowly came out of the shadows and Harry pushed himself harder against the headboard. He caught a glimpse of the noise hair and bit down of thumb to suppress a whimper. I thought I escaped him. I thought-

"Potter? Bloody hell. Potter, it's just me. Calm down. I'm not going to hurt you."

He couldn't make sense of what he had said. Everything was so jumbled up in his head he couldn't even breathe right, let alone respond. So when the lanky figure finally sat down in front of his on the bed, his entire body revolted. His stomach felt like it was being pulled from every direction and his chest burned as if a blacksmith's hammer had struck him straight through the heart.

He finally looked through his red, tear soaked eyes to meet Draco's own wide and confused ones. "Hey...Hey look. Potter...Just like before, okay? In. out. In. out. Yeah?"

Harry tried to follow along but in was hard to hear with the blood rushing in his ears. His shaky hands suddenly grasped onto Draco's, which had been previously laying in his lap. Draco started at the two interlocked hands for a moment. He came back to his senses when Harry squeezed. He squeezed back.

Drac seemed to get the idea and squeeze his hand at every 'in' and 'out.' Harry felt his breath very slowly start regulating itself. It allowed his brain to clear up a bit and the logical part of his brain started to break through the darkness.

Hot tears were still streaming down his face. When whatever spell Voldermort had done backfired, it felt like he was the one under the cruciatus curse. The aftereffects were still racking through his body with painful sobs. He couldn't help but to think of the last time was put under the curse. In the graveyard. The same place he had lost...

He let out another particularly painful sob and Draco grabbed something off his nightstand, he didn't bother looking what, he only had one thing on there.

"Poculum!" Draco whispered loudly. The soft pillow that they were resting their interlocked hands on slowly morphed into a cool glass goblet. He lifted it up again and whispered, "Aguamenti!" Fresh drinking water sprouted from the end of the wand and into the cup. He cut the water off with a flick of his wand and handed the cup to Harry.

"Drink it. You're body can't cry and drink water at the same time."

He took it graciously and threw it back instantly. It went down smoothly in his throat, and, miraculously, what Malfoy said was true. His tears suddenly stopped as if focusing on the task alone. The large, angry thunderstorm in his head began to clear away as well.

It was quiet for a moment as Harry began to calm down from his nightmare. Draco sat there, still squeezing his hand and replenishing his cup as necessary. Harry didn't know why he didn't let go of the Slytherin's hand. It was warm and ...comforting. Everything Harry had dissociated him from in the past. Most of all he thought it was because he didn't want to be alone.

"So...are you going to tell me what that was about?"

Harry rapidly shook his head no. He hate telling people about his nightmares. It was like reliving it all over again. Plus, he had seen Draco's own parent's in the vision. He didn't want to spark an agreement right now. He just wanted...Well he didn't know what he wanted exactly. But some peace and quiet was probably at the top of the list right now.

"Okay....what about something else? We're on a truce now, right? So just talk about something you like. To get your mind off things. We can take turns."He nodded his head nervously. Draco went first.

"Remember that other safe house I mention? The one while we on the broom?" Draco asked. "It's in France. A tiny muggle village called Colmar. You've probably never heard of it, but... It's really nice. Almost something right out of a children's book."

Draco paused to let Harry say something. He didn't. He didn't trust his voice right now not to sound like a squeaky mess right now.

"My parents still have no idea about it. I bought it with my allowance money I had saved up when I was fourteen. Before you asked, yes, I forged the documents. I have a little rebellion in me."

A small smile made its way upon his lips. Draco Malfoy had an  _ allowance? The idea was ridiculous to him, even if the  _ amount was enough to buy an entire house.

"The first time I had stepped in the village it felt surreal to me. Everything was different there, like all my problems could easily be solved with a freshly baked pie and a cup of tea. You can’t tell anyone I told you that, though.” Draco jokingly furrowed his eyebrows at the last statement in an attempt to lighten the situation. 

Harry let out what might have been a loose chuckle. “What that you fell in love with a village and want to run away and live like a muggle?” He croaks, a wisp of smile dancing across his face. Whatever Draco was doing, it was working. His heart rate was nearly back to normal and the nightmare was slowly slipping away from the front of his mind. 

“I did  _ not _ say-”   
  


“You totally did.”

Draco huffed then softens his voice “It’s just beautiful there. I think you'll like it there… Anyways, it's your turn. I shared something personal about me and now it’s your turn. You aren’t going to to off easy either.”   
  


Harry thinks for a moment. There wasn’t any place that he really liked to visit. Unlike Draco, he had been pretty much confined to the same four or five places his entire life. Privet drive, Hogwarts, the Burrow, and Grimmauld place. Maybe Diagon Alley and Hogsmede a few times a year. 

“I don’t know really know....” says Harry. “I haven’t been to many places.”   
  


Draco tilts his head. He was obviously still tired. Harry suddenly felt guilty for keeping him up. “It doesn’t necessarily have to be a place. Just talk about something you enjoy.”

“I- I like astronomy.” He bursts out before really thinking about it. He could have gone with anything, something he would have already known, but…”The stars.  They just...They look like fireflies only they burn brighter. And against this glowing black satin behind layers and layers of serene clouds above my head that makes even the infinite seem possible somehow. It's so surreal and it makes me want to reach up for one, keep it in my hands for warmth and pocket it and keep it in a jar.”

Draco was watching his curiously as he talked. His mouth twitched, and he was pretty sure he was fighting off a smile.

“What?”

“You’re really animated with your hands when you talk. I don’t think I've ever noticed that before.”   
  
“Well probably because you hated my guts up until a couple days ago.”   
  


Draco sighed. “Potter, I’ve never  _ hated _ you-”

A loud  _ crack _ cut Draco’s sentence short. Harry yelped, letting go of the blonde’s hand and nearly flying off his bed.

A small figure was standing in the doorway. Harry could have recognized the wrinkly skin, wide eyes, and baggy clothes from anywhere.

“Dobby…?” Draco drawls. 

The elf brightens. “Mr. Potter has a letter sir!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops sorry for the filter


	13. Moonlight

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

**[Moonlight]**

**HARRY**

“Who’s it from?” 

“Mr. Dumbledore sirs! He said it was urgent and Dobby had to get it to Mr. Potter right away!”

Dobby handed Harry the letter, nearly bouncing off the walls from the excitement of being trusted with something so important. Harry, on the other hand, felt like he was about to throw up. 

He was back on the bed now though. Leg criss-crossed and hands softly examining the small envelope. The thick, creamy paper felt smooth in his hands as he turned it around. The words,  _ Urgent matters of Albus Dumbleodore  _ printed on the front in frantic, scribbled green ink. There was something else inside other than paper.

“Does he know where you are right now?” Draco asks. His eyebrows were furrowed in judgement. He still had Harry’s wand in one hand just in case they had to make a quick getaway. Harry didn’t know if regular stunning spells even worked on house-elfs. 

Dobby moved as if he just now noticed Malfoy. His eyes lit up like a child on Christmas. “Its Mr. Draco! Oh how I’ve missed you- and with Mr. Potter! Dobby’s two favorite people  _ together _ !”

Draco winced. “Yep. Can you do me a favor, Dobby?”

“Oh- yes! Anything for Mr. Draco!”

Harry examined the conversation carefully. Draco was Dobby’s previous master. Isn’t that why he wanted to be free? He hated the Malfoys. But now that he thought about it, he never did say anything about Draco….

Draco hummed next to him. “The letter isn’t tracked....is it?”

Harry immediately dropped the letter. He hadn’t even thought of that. It seemed like the exact kind of thing Dumbledore would do too.

“Oh no! Mr. Dumbledore said to report right back to him sir. No charms. He has in a rush. He told Dobby to get to Mr. Potter right way and tell him where he was. House-elf magic is different!”

Harry looked down at the letter again. Before he knew it, his fingers were digging at the bright red wax sealing. Draco watched him cautiously over his shoulder. The letter inside was short and written on yellow aging paper. Harry grabbed his wand from draco and cast a quick diagnostic charm on it, just in case Dobby had been lying. Nothing happened. Harry raised an eyebrow at the elf. 

  
  


_ Dear Harry,  _

_ Stay where you are. Your act of underage magic alarmed the Ministry and triggered the wards on Privet Drive.  _

_ Inside the letter is a porkey. Grab ahold at 10 to six tonight. It’ll take you to a safe location. Mr. Shacklebolt will see that you’re taken care of. The rest of the Order will be there to hear your story. _

_ P.s. Arabella is fine. Just a little dizzy.  _

“Dobby. I need you to listen very carefully to me.  _ You cannot tell Dumbledore where we are.  _ Okay?”

Dobby frowns and it makes the anxiety in Harry’s chest tighten. “Mr. Dumbledore is a good man. He let’s Dobby work at Hogwarts. And gets  _ paid _ .”   
  


“I know he is Dobby.” Harry says, biting his lip. “Me and Draco are on a top secret mission. And no one can know about it. Not even Dumbledore.”

Dobby is confused for a moment. He contemplating something, Harry can tell. But it changes when he looks back up at the two hopeful faces he’s come to admire the most.

“Dobby  _ must _ do this for Mr. Potter’s safety.”   
  
It’s a couple seconds after Dobby snaps his fingers and disappears that Harry let loose of a breath he didn’t know he was holding. A pitiful laugh escaped his lips as he falls back onto the bed. He tilts his head back and looks up at Draco’s jaw-slacked face. “We’re so fucked.”

~~

“It’s just dinner Potter. I have no idea why you’re so worried.”

“I don’t- what if I do something wrong? What if I use the wrong fork or something? I don’t go to dinner parties every night like you do Malfoy! What do I even  _ wear _ ? Why are we even doing this! We should be leaving now.if we don’t want to get caught by the Dumbledore-”

“For Salazar sake! I  _ told _ you! Even if the house-elf told him where you are, there’s heavy ward’s placed on the building. The only thing he could have told him that you’re in an inn with Draco Malfoy.” 

“Why would you put it that way?” Harry groans, rubbing his face in an attempt to hide his reding cheeks. He was sitting on the bed now, draco behind him doing something in the mirror he didn’t quite care top pay attention too. 

“What are you suggesting, Potter?”

“ _ Nothing! _ Just- ugh. I hate this.”

He turns around to see Malfoy smirking in the mirror behind him. “Who would have known. The-Boy-Who-Lived, savior of the wizarding world, the Gryffindor hero, scared of a little diner.”

Harry grumbled something along the lines of ‘don't call me that’ as he sat up and made his way to his trunk. A couple of Malfoy’s things were now stacked on top of it from the afternoon. They had tried again to summon some of Malfoy’s stuff. Random scarves and blouses had been hitting their room’s window at random intervals of the day and Harry was scared for the moment something shattered the glass. 

He opened the lock, set to the date he stepped into Hogwarts for the first time, and pushed a couple things aside until he found what he was looking for. A tiny fragment of a mirror he had cracked on the last day of term. It was wrapped in a silky blue cloth to prevent it from being scratched or broken even worse than it already was.

His fingers dug into the sharp edges. Someplace in his mind registered that it hurt but he didn’t care. It comforted him, as it was one of the only things he had left of his godfather. God, would he do anything for his advice right now. Harry could almost imagine the conversation they would have. 

_ “On the run with Draco Malfoy, eh? Can’t imagine what that would feel like.” _

He held it up in the light with the hope he would see the man’s smiling face looking back at him.

He slipped inside his pocket as Draco turned back around. Merlin knows Draco would say if he knew about Harry’s ridiculous thinking. 

“Stop sulking Potter. Bramble makes a delicious  Treacle Tart if I do say so myself.” Draco taunts, causing Harry’s ears to perk up. 

He follows Malfoy like a lost puppy out of the room and to wherever Bramble’s private quarters were. Harry could have sworn they walked down a least ten flights of stairs when they finally get there. He gasped, feeling his ribs ache against his lungs. 

Draco knocks on the old, oak door and they wait awkwardly in silence. Harry grimaces as he tugs at his collar. It was tight. “How do you even live like this?” 

The slightest tips of the blonde’s mouth tilt upward into a smirk. 

“Oh hello boys.Come in. I just put the pie in the oven.”

The door opens to reveal Bramble, her hair set up in tight bun with a purple apron tied around her short frame. She gives Malfoy a motherly hug and kisses . Harry made sure to remember that for future black mail uses. 

~~~

It was less than ten minutes later that Harry found himself seated at small circular table with more food on it than Harry had seen any place than the Hogwarts feast. Definitely more than his recently starved stomach could probably handle. 

“So,” Madam Bramble takes a sip from her cup. It looked and smelled exactly like Aunt Petunia break out when an important guest was over. He had yet to touch his glass and he doubted he was going too.. “How long have you two known each other?”

Draco shot her a shooting glare. He nearly laughed at the Slytherin’s deranged face. Bramble only saved him a suspicious eyebrow raise. 

“We met in here actually. Well, not, here  _ here _ .” Harry laughs awkwardly, trying to defuse the tension. “In Diagon Alley I mean. At Madam Malkin's Robe shop.”

“What the hell?”’

Bramble smacks his arm. “ _ Langage _ .”

Draco rolls his eyes but then looks back at him with another absolutely absurd facial expression. “The first time we met was on the train.  _ Remember? _ ”

“You really are dense aren’t you?”

He receives a kick to his calf from under the table. 

“Ow! Dumbleodore’s underpants, Malfoy.” He rubs his leg mockingly. He looks up to see Draco’s pleading face. Harry’s tilts his head slightly in confusion, but something in his face makes him stop. Did he not want to Bramble the truth?

Harry tried to retain what slightest rien over his emotions he had left. Of course he didn’t want her to know that he was a bully. He felt his throat close up in pitiful frusation. 

Instead, he tries to cover it up with what he tried as a playful smirk. Why he was doing this part a favor when all he had done was  _ torment _ him and his friends-

No. That wasn’t really true, was it? The Malfoy sitting in front of him now had done nothing but help him. And, though it may make him sound  _ crazy _ , there was a lot more than just a self-righteous prick than one could find in one glance. 

“I was the one behind the veil that day. When you getting fitted. Have you not figured that out yet?”

He could visibly see Draco let out a breath. It catches Harry’s attention and he has no idea why. 

“Well that's a surprise. Draco’s never mentioned you before, considering…”

There's an awkward silence. Harry beats her to the punchline. “Because I’m his best-friend? Yeah.”

Draco chokes in the seat next to him. 

Bramble’s eyes lit up. “Oh?” She seems to be trying to contain her own smirk. “He’s definitely never mentioned that.” 

She stuffs her face her face with her Bouillabaisse to try to contain what might have been a laugh. Harry didn’t honestly know what was so funny. 

“Funny you should say that, because When Draco was little-”

“B _ ramble! _ ”

“-he used to talk about you all the time. He couldn’t wait to meet you when he started Hogwarts.”

Harry watched as Draco’s cheeks went as red as a beetroot and radiate heat like a hot pan. “Dear merlin,  _ why? Why would you tell him?” _

_ Harry didn’t know what to say. “You’re kidding me, right?” _

Bramble laughed. “Nope! He was obsessed with the idea there was someone his age who was so, in his words, ‘awsome!’”

“I did  _ not _ say that!”

The pit in his stomach started to loosen. “That's...great. More than great actually.  _ Hilarious _ .” He laughs. Harry remembers everyone fanning over him in his first year. There were  _ still  _ people doing it, despite going to school with him for five years. But the idea of his supposed school rival doing the same was just… different. 

“Don’t you dare tell anyone else that, Potter!”

“Why not? You weren’t very caring when you were small. You practically announced your love for him every time you talked.”   
  
“Bramble, I’m going to hex you right now if you don't stop talking!”

“But-”

“Not a word.”

She tried a couple more times to get something out but everytime she went to open her mouth Malfoy was there screaming ‘ShHHhHhhh’ or some other various threat he probably heard in the Slytherin common room. 

Harry watched the whole ordeal with an amused glint in his eyes. It almost made him forget about the situation on hand. Almost. 

“As entertaining as this is,” he coughs, “we actually have important news. Don’t we, Draco?”

“Yes...yes, right.” The blonde straightens up his back and makes sure his collar is straight again. He looks dazed still, his cheeks still red and strands of blonde hair coming out of it’s perfect gel. Harry felt uncomfortable, like he just walked upon a scene he wasn’t supposed to see.

He shoots Harry another glance almost like Harry was about jump up and yell out the window his little secret. 

“We’re leaving tomorrow.”

Bramble signs. “You never fully told me the reason why you’re here in the first place so I can’t say I’m surprised. But why not stay until term starts? There's only four days left, yes?”

Harry takes a huge bite out of his chicken.

“No reason.”

“You used underage magic, didn’t you?”

Draco scoffs. “ _ No.  _ Why would you think that _?” _

_ “ _ Because it’s in the Daily Prophet.”

“You  _ have _ to be  _ joking _ .” Harry finally says. She shakes her head. She bends down and grabs the paper from under the table. She was already prepared for them to think this up.

Harry sets down his fork and reads the paper. 

**_Harry Potter: The Boy Who Hates Muggles?_ **

_ It’s not the first time Harry Potter has been convicted of underage magic. Since he was twelve, Mr. Potter has been seemingly uncaring about the rules put in place to protect muggles. Yesterday was his third offense according to the Department of Underage Magic and Muggle Protection Service. But the question stands. Is there a deeper meaning behind his actions?  _

_ All three of his attacks were against muggles. The most recent being Arabella Figg, who was subjugated to the stunning curse at five past ten last night, was knocked out cold. Unfortunately, her memory was dazed from her fall.  _

_ A muggle teen, presumably Mr. Potter’s cousin, was found unconscious as well inside Mr. Potter’s home. No magic was detected at the scene, but he suffered from multiple minor concussions and fractures in his wrist and arm. He was taken to a muggle hospital where he was treated for his injuries and his memory was wiped .  _

**_See more on page 3_ **

Harry’s nose crumpled up in disgust. Leave it to the Prophet to twist every single one of his actions. 

It wasn’t the word’s that ever affected him at his point. He just hated the fact that someone that he never spoken to before had the right to decide who he was and how everyone else was going to view him that week.  _ Didn’t they even try to do a little bit of research? _

The thing he was worried about was Ron and Hermione. They would go aboutley apeshit when, or if they hadn’t already, read the article. 

Draco snatched the paper’s from his hand and scoffed. “Really? Do they ever pick a side? Do they really believe their golden boy would change on them that quickly?”

Harry shrugged. 

“Does it not bother you? Everyone hating you and loving you with nothing to stop it?”

The two boy’s eyes meet. And for a second, their eyes say more than Harry ever thought possible. 

“I don’t know.” Harry shrugs. He tears his gaze away and takes another bite of his treacle tart. Malfoy was right about it. It nearly melted in his mouth. “I guess it was just going to happen no matter what I suppose.”   
  


Harry looks up at Bramble who was looking at him oddly. “So why go on the run? It’s only underage magic. They have no real proof for a hate crime.’

He clenched his fist.

“I can’t get caught again. They’ll twist it somehow again and I just  _ can’t _ . They’ll snap my wand and I’ll never be allowed back at Hogwarts and I’ll have to go back,” he throat tightens, “to live with my relatives. Besides, I need  _ that _ one. It’s the only chance I have against Voldermort.”   
  
Both of them wince but Harry pretends not to notice. “And once we get to Hogwarts they’ll have to go through Dumbledore.”

He conveniently left out the part where he’ll also have to avoid Dumbledore himself. Maybe it’ll be his payback from last year. 

“That’s hardly a fool-proof plan. Where would you go? They can’t detect you through the wards.”

“We have a place.” Draco says. Harry gags inwardly. That made them sound like a newlywed couple. “It’s heavily warded. You don’t have to worry.”

She sighs sadly. “Okay fine. Just be careful.”

Draco scraps what's left of his plate into his mouth. Harry marvels how he can make something so messy so graceful. He stands up and dust off the nonexist dirt on his pants. 

“We’ll be going now, Bramble. Thank you for the dinner.”

“Do you need help cleaning up?” Harry adds. He felt guilt for eating his full. Not helping at all would leave him restless when he slept.

“Oh, no dears. You better go back.” She looks up at the clock. “It’s nearly eleven already. You’ll need your sleep.”

“But-”

“Thank you Bramble.” Draco grabbed his wrist and led them towards the door. He was about to open it when a sudden, loud clatter rang out above them. Draco’s leg froze into place. 

“What was that?”

“Someone probably just dropped something.”

_ BANG. _

_ BANG _

_ “ _ That was  _ not…”  _ His face pales _.  _ He immediately slammed the door and locks it with trembling hands. Harry shifts in confusion. 

“Give me your wand Potter.”

“What?”   
  


“ _ I said give me your wand potter _ ! There's no time to explain.”

He fumbles with the wand to pull it out of his pocket a hands it to Draco. He grabs it with eager hands.

_ “Colloportus! Praesidio! Cinccino!” _

_ “ _ Bloody hell, Malfoy. What are you doing?”

“What do you think? Go tell Bramble to go set the window locks.”

Harry couldn’t do anything but comply. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Crisis :) I tried to make this chapter a little longer. Sorry if it sucks ://
> 
> I said this on my message board but I feel like I should say it again.
> 
> To all those members of the LGBTQ+ community who feel excluded from their family and unwanted during the holiday times,
> 
> Remember that you are important. You matter. You are loved and valued. Do not forget that. There are people who love and accept you for you.
> 
> Words: 3007
> 
> Published: 12/24/19


	14. Half Light

**CHAPTER 13**

**[Half Light]**

**DRACO**

Adrenaline floods in Draco's system. It pumps and beats like it's trying to escape. He feels his heart explode and his eyes widen with fear. Draco's body wanted to run fast for the safety of the hills or to the kitchen of weaponry, but instead he remain where he is. His adrenaline surges so fast he could almost feel himself almost vomit.

Draco doesn't know how they found him. He thought he was carefully. Merlin, how could he be so bloody  _ foolish _ . He knew this wack-minded fantasy could only last so long.

"Draco, who's out there?" Harry asks more forcefully this time. There's a look about him telling

Draco that the brunet already knows. He's just looking for confirmation.

"Who's out there Draco?"

He turns around so his back is barricading the door and he can meet Potter's eyes. For years, Draco was so ridiculously careful in his emotions. If you gave someone an inch, they'll take a mile. Ten miles. The entire block really. But now... The beating in his heart had finally slammed it's way through the fortress.

He couldn't bear it anymore and tore their gaze apart. He watched Bramble whisper enchantments under her breath, probably to protect the building she had worked so hard to protect all these years.

"Malfoy, give me my wand right now. They're here for me. "

"Ever the most egotistical, huh?" Draco manages to taunt, his breath catching in the end. Harry's eyebrows furrowed.

"What the Godric's name are you talking about, Malfoy?"

Draco turns around to the dinner table and grabs a chair to wedge underneath the knob. It was silly, seeing as they were wizards and could just blast the door open if figured out the locking spells, but it was worth a try. He didn't have much a choice.

"Merlin, not everything is about  _ you _ , Potter."

A crash, closer than before, crashes from overhead again. Draco curses and slams his eyes closed. They had to get out of here fast. He took a deep breath.

_ No _ . He needed to get  _ Potter and Bramble _ out of here. His father and Voldemort needed him alive. They'll take him and go. And if they found Harry, well, he couldn't say the same. He saw first hand the thirst of blood of the Dark Lord had when it came to Potter.

But at the same time, being tortured wasn't on his to-do list for today. Maybe Tomorrow. 

"Malfoy, there are innocent people in the other rooms! Let me go you selfish git!"

"And let you get handed over to the Dark Lord? You really are a bloody numpty."

Harry glares at him. "And since when do you care whether I get killed or not?"

Draco felt like banging his skull against the door frame. "Do you learn  _ anything _ ? We're on a truce! So I can't just let you die on my watch."

"And I can't let innocent people die on mine."

They're gazes are cold and hard.

"Boys!"

Both of their heads snap towards Bramble. She was glaring at them, her hands on her hips. "Even in a life of death situation you still find something to argue about Draco."

Draco bites his lip and ignores the statement. "Bramble, is there anyway out? I thought there wards up? How did they get in?"

"I'm afraid not- I bought these places years ago. The owner had this room made into a bunker for a situation just like this one. The only way out is the door your blocking is the only way in or out." She closes her eyes and whispers something under her breath that sounded mysteriously like a prayer. It suddenly hit him how utterly terrified she had to be. To lose everything to death eaters as a child and now they were attacking her only home once again.

"And there are- I don't know how but they must have found a way around them. They didn't even set off the alarms." She rubs her face with shaky hands. "It  _ is  _ possible that they already had someone from the inside."

Draco feels his throat swell up. He felt the panic swell like a cluster of spark plugs in his abdomen. His fault. Draco wanted to scream. Of course it was his fault. He became a curse on everyone he loved. An inky black poison disguised as dessert . Why did he expect any different?

"But that's nearly impossible...The Obscure Demonica curse keeps anyone with ill intentions out. In fact, they can't even see the house."

"And none of that matters if Malfoy doesn't  _ get out of the way."  _ Harry shoots him another shooting glare. Draco scoffs. His body was feeling so many emotions at once so he couldn't exactly put a name on the emotions he was feeling towards the brunet, but anger was definitely one of them. 

"You'll just make things ten times worse if they know you're here! Are you crazy?"

"Then who else are they here for then?!"

_ "Me you numskull!"  _ Malfoy yells, throwing his hands up. "So shut up! If anyone is going to go out there it's going to be me and that is final." 

Draco couldn't look into Bramble's face. He didn't want to see the heartbreak and mistrust promised in her eyes.

Instead, it's the Potter's stone cold face looking down at his clenched fist. It's face is good of emotion and somehow that's almost worse.

"You....your lured them here didn't you?" He says, voice barely above a whisper.

"What? No!"

"Then why are they coming for you then? I saw your dad that night, you know. He probably put you up to this. I just thought..."

Draco wanted to deny it, but he couldn't. He was right- but also so terribly wrong. How did it get so mixed up? He was the bad guy here but he couldn't help it!

He had no choice.

Harry started pulling at his hair, painfully too. Draco went to grab the other's wrist to try and calm him down but was suddenly pushed back into the door by his shoulders.

"Don't touch me." He glares and Draco swears he can see fire in his eyes. He was so harsh, so cruel, and so different from the boy from just the other night.

Something in Draco cracks. He could feel himself balancing on the edge of a panic attack. His entire body has fighting against him so he couldn't even defend himself with Bramble watching.

"Fine," he closes his eyes with ahead breath. "Chances are that I'm going to end up dying by the night anyways. But I'm asking you one thing Draco. Let me go help others."

Draco doesn't register his actions. Before he knows it, his shaky hands are handing Harry his wand and moving away from the door.

Harry wastes no time shoving the chair away and flinging the door open. His own knees buckle and Draco can't help but let out a swallowed sob.

He covers his mouth his hand and ends up biting down on his knuckle to silence himself. He was showing too much of the inside and he didn't even care. Everything was so messed up inside his head that was the last thing he needed to care about.

He felt someone kneel down beside him. It was Bramble. Despite it all, her face was soft, understanding even. She wasn't mad at him. Instead, she picked up his hand and place something cool and wooden in his palm.

"Go find him."

~~~

Chairs thrown from their tables, desks tipped over, and shattered glass filled the lobby. Draco wasn't surprised at the disaster. If his aunt Bellatrix was with them there would hardly anything left worth saving of the place.

A crash came from above and was followed by an unearthly scream. He held his breath. It wasn't Harry, but it would be soon enough.

This was the part he was supposed to say he was prepared for the worst In reality, he wasn't prepared at all. He was secretly hoping that they were here for some other random wizard despite how selfish the thought. 

Draco takes the steps two at a time following the carnage on the walls. desperately tries to look beyond the scattered blood on the walls. He doesn't bother to check any of the doors as he runs. Most of them are thrown open and he hopes it was Potter's doing and not anyone else. 

A stinging hex to the shoulder catches him by surprise. He curses and throws himself around the closest corner. A couple more spells hit the wall behind where he once was.

"Aw, hidin' already? You're no fun!"

He recognizes the voice immediately. It was the same one who had offered him the hot chocolate on the knight bus only a couple days ago. He can't believe he didn't realize it sooner. 

Stanley Shunpike was one of the people Voldemort had under the Imperius curse. It dawned on him. The bus conductor had to be the one who had revealed their location. But there were hundreds of buildings in the combined allys, so how...?

_ "Redueseo Itseseo!"  _ It was the only spell Draco knew that could bring someone out of their controlled trance. He just hoped to god it would work. He wasn't going to wait to find out though.

He casts a protection spell and fled down the opposite corridor. The rumbling was right above him now. He could picture them tearing apart his room piece by piece, Harry already dead or unconscious on the ground.

The Slytherin pushed himself to go faster. 

When he reached the last of the steps he was thrown backwards by an invisible force, slamming his head on the wooden floorboard. 

A silver masked figure towered over him. Their hood was pulled over their head, keeping him from having any clue on who they were. Nonetheless, Draco swung his legs wildly and ending up sweeping them to the ground next to him.

"Malfoy! Couldn't wait to finish me off, huh?"

Oh what a blessed sound.

He looked over his shoulder from where he was praying the wand out of the death eater's unconscious hand. Harry's arms and shirt were covered in various cutting hexes and his hair was matted slightly of blood, but he was alive. 

One or two faceless bodies were lying unconscious on the ground surrounding him. Harry was a skilled wizard when if came to DADA but there was still so much he could do facing eight other grown adults in battle. He looked close to his breaking point. 

_ "Stupefy!"  _ Draco flings the curse behind Harry. The lurking death eater stumbling onto the wall behind him, taking a picture frame down with him that shatters on his face. There's a brief moment of surprise on Potter's face. But then he nods with something new in his eyes and Harry's trust began weighing on Draco's shoulders. 

The blonde stood up and began to fight with new found confidence surging through his bones. Before he knew it, he was absorbed into the fight. Flashes of colors flowing past his eyes in a blur of slow motion, few finding their target in the chaos. Though,He could hardly feel them through the adrenaline. He was just lucky that these people who cared so little for human life needed him alive. If they hadn’t, no doubt they’ll probably be dead by now. 

“Potter, we need to go!” He whisper yells. They were standing nearly back-to-back now. Both of them were breathing heavily with their hair dangling in front of their eyes. “They aren’t here to kill us. They’re trying to tire us out!”

“We can’t just-”

Oh he was thinking he was going to let this go debated. 

_ “Incentactum!” _ He grabs Harry’s wrist and starts running down the hallway. The barrier would help them get a head start but not for long. 

They bust into their room and start gathering their stuff and shoving them into Harry’s trunk faster than Draco thought possible. There was a charm his grandma had taught him to make this go quicker.  _ What was it? Sevium? Sanctictus? _ His palms were sweaty and the adrenaline coursing through his system was shutting down his ability to think logically. Never in his life had he ever been so terrified.

Harry threw open the window and grabbed his broom from the corner. He was expecting them to escape the same way as last time, but that was just too risky. If they were hit while flying it could cause them to fall. There had to be another option. One he hadn’t thought of already. If-

A sudden gush of pain jolted throughout Draco’s body. His stomach began to ache and his arms lost tension and his legs began to weaken. He doubles over causing his eyes to widen. The coppery tang of blood fills his mouth, and it feels like fire is rushing through his veins. The pain isn't sharp like a needle point or a knife, it burns around the blonde’s innards better than boiling water. Everything feels scolded and, move or not, he’s in the same agonizing pain that’s so familiar to him.

To his left, he can just faintly Harry yell then fall in a full body bind next to him. 

“Well done, Draco. You’ve led us straight to the boy.”

He can hear his blood rushing in his ears as the circuitous curse tears through his body. A scream tears through him like a great shard of glass. His eyes widen and pulse quickens, heart thudding like a rock rattling in a box. God, and it hurt  _ so much _ .

“Though, you did run off- That cannot go unpunished. Had it not been for you foolish ways, we wouldn’t be in this mess. Now clean up. We have to leave before the ministry gets here. You’ve caused enough mess for me for one day, I don’t need anymore.”

His father’s words were pudding in his ears. Nothing made sense. The only thing he knew for sure was his fear and the terrifying hole that was tearing through him at the thought he was almost free. 

The curse begins to wear off and Draco pushes himself up on his elbows. He wipes coughed up blood from his chin and finally looks up to him. 

His father’s mask and hood was torn off revealing his menacing glare at his son. It was as if he was disgusted by him and would kill him for the waste of magic he was if there wasn’t appearances to keep up. 

That’s when Draco snapped. It might have been the dizziness but he just couldn’t take it anymore. The way his father looked at him - the way no parent should - shouldn’t exist. He wanted free of this man who had kept him in a cage his whole life. 

“No,” He whispers. It’s barely audible but it speaks volumes in the silent room. His entire body trembling with his voice as he continues. “I’m-,” he chokes from the lack of air, “not a _ puppet.”  _ Draco meets his father's eyes, his own flashing with ache and anger, much like lightning on a pitch black night. “You sick...manipulative,  _ bastard _ . You’ve caused me so much pain and I-,” Hot tears pour down his face. “Would rather die than carry on the Malfoy name next to you one more time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yikes I can't write sorry ://


	15. Dancing After Death

_ "....would rather die than carry on the Malfoy name next to you one more day." _

The pain throbs in his but, it's deep and warm, but not in a nice way. It feels like someone has their hand in there and is squeezing his organs neither gently or as hard as they can. When it wanes he can move when it returns Harry can only hold still, breathe slow, and try his best to break the powerful body bind spell. 

Draco's screaming tears through him in powerful sobs and Harry has never felt so helpless. His entire body is yelling at him to do something, anything, to save the boy next to him withering in torture. He wanted to hex Lucius Malfoy until he could no longer lift a finger without suffering the same pain. 

He tries to remember the way he fought the  _ Imperio _ curse when he was fourteen. The simple way he just said  _ 'No'  _ and nearly broke out of the curse entirely. He repeated the word in his head desperately like a mantra. Nononononono  _ no _ . 

He couldn't just stand by and watch this happen. It was more painful in ways than he ever thought imaginable to watch the Slytherin slowly die from the inside out. Years of fighting were washed away in the simple fact he had to get to Draco.

He tried to look for a way out when he caught sight of a clock behind the older Malfoy.  _ 5:59 _ His eyes would have widened if they had the chance. The porky discarded in the bedside table could leave soon. That was their escape, but that was only if something happens within the next minute.

He registered faintly that if they did use it, he would be sent back to the Dursely's next summer. He also didn't care.

He looked to his side where Draco was wiping the sweat off his brow and the blood off his lip, glaring up at his father with hurt and fear in his eyes. It was the same way Harry was when he was ten years old and was on the short side of his uncle's anger. The sight made his stomach and eyes ache. It reminded him too much of the graveyard. Too much of Cedric. 

Draco saved him and just wished he could do the same.

"And you're hardly worth it. A waste of blood." The death eater glares down at his son. "Do you know how we found you Draco? A worthless muggle technique, fitting for the star. I had hoped you would have learned better than too leave your wand behind where it could have been so easily tracked. The mudblood to protect you, really? Her death was quick, hardly a fight. "

Draco was shaking his head rapidly, causing more blood to stain his lips from heaving gasps. His hands his ears to desperately block out the words.

"Stop!" He cries hysterically, the screaming sobs only being interrupted by his need to draw breath. His upper body and shoulders wrack with every sob that forces their way out, chest rising and falling unevenly and he squeezes his eyes shut, balling his hands into fists each time he throws his head back to let out a blood-curdling scream. "I'm sorry,  _ please _ ! Stop!"

It's Lucius turn to stop and stare at his son laid out on the ground, his face closed in a grimace, his skin pale and clammy. "We'll continue this when we got home. The Dark Lord is assistant on your presence." He glares down at Harry and sneers forms on the tips of his lips. "Gather Potter and don't let him escape. The Dark Lord may forgive you winning such a....valuable prize."

Lucius is next to him, cane underneath his chin to examine the damage already caused. Harry doesn't understand how everything went so south so quickly.

Draco doesn't move. He's on both his elbows glaring heavily at the ground. "I wish you were dead." He finally heaves, his entire body is shaking his fear and pain. It's not hard to believe him. "I hate you."

Lucius rolls his eyes as if he had told the boy to go to bed early and had thrown a tantrum. "Get off the floor. You're being pathetic."

He flicks his wand again and there's sudden deep yell right before the curse hits. It tears through Harry like a great shard of glass. He felt his eyes widen and pulse quicken, his heart thunder and smoke with lighting. It was the loudest most piercing noise he had ever heard. It sounded like a scream of wild panic. A scream of hysteria and disbelief, bordering on terror. Draco somehow screamed with his whole body. The eyes wide with horror, the mouth rigid and open, his chalky face gaunt and immobile, the fists clenched with blanched knuckles and the nails digging deeply into the palms of his hand.

Lucius suddenly took on a pale look, as if he'd been painted with whitewash - even his lips were barely there. Then with one step backward and he crumpled like a puppet suddenly released of their strings.

It only took a second for Harry to realize the invisible restraints were no longer intact. He was flying across the room and his tears started to take up most of his vision. 

"Draco!"

Draco has a look in his eye Harry's seen before, but not on him, on his own. It doesn't belong on his face and it scares him. He's the one who supposedly knows what to do. Then Draco bends over double, hands on his knees, struggling to regulate his breathing.

Harry has his arm around him in an instant. He had to assure himself that Draco was alive and breathing. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close, desperately trying to keep him close. His fingers dug into the blonde's side and buried his face into his neck. He had no idea what had made him so scared for the other's life. It was something deep inside him burning so bright and loud he had no idea how he never noticed it before. 

Draco barely seemed to notice. He was too busy staring at his father on the floor. 

"I....didn't mean...." He sobs. 

"Draco there's still deatheaters here. We have to go."

_ Draco.  _ He doesn't remember when it became that. 

"Is he dead?" He whispers brokenly. 

Harry unwillingly unfolds himself from him and crawls towards the body quickly. It's silent in the room as he checks for a pulse. It's there, but only faintly. Harry didn't know whether to feel relieved or scared. Draco's magic had only knocked him out cold. 

_ 6:07 _

Footsteps rapidly started up the steps near their room. He shook Malfoy's shoulders dramatically to snap him out of it.

" _ Draco _ , they're coming. We have to leave."

Draco looks up dazed to Harry. There was an uncontrollable urge to hold him closer and comfort him. It was ridiculous considering they're about to die. By Malfoy's family no less. Was this how Malfoy felt back at the Dursley's? He cursed himself, frowning. 

"We can't," Malfoy pulls away. He crawls towards where the discarded broom and truck were on the floor. He uses the bed frame to pulls himself up but almost falls on fault of his shaky legs. Draco's eyes were still glassy and blood was grazing his lip. It was scary to hear his voice so level after hearing him scream bloody murder. "If you get on the broom they'll strike you down."

He looks back at his father on the ground. Harry follows his gaze and finally notices it. A large container in the peaking out of the pockets of the heavy deatheater robes. Harry moved quickly, careful not to wake the man. 

Harry's heart dropped (if that was even possible at this point) staring down at the smooth ombré wand flicking back and forth pointing at Draco. He tilted the box a little bit to test it. The wand stayed pointed.

_ So the Accio did work. _

He opened it and it went flying directly into Draco's hand. Harry barely had enough time to react before Draco threw his broom at him and was pushing him towards the window. 

"You should go."

_ "What?  _ No- _ " _

_ "Potter."  _ He looks up at Malfoy's eyes. Harry couldn't help compare him to a ghost He wasn't joking. "Go, okay? Remember what I said?"

"I don't..."

"We can't have the Boy-Who-Lived dying on us." And he smiles, like its sometime of long time joke they've had since they were kids. Like he wouldn't be fucking  _ killed _ . 

Harry yells. "Like hell I am." He looks over Malfoy's shoulder at the door frame. The footsteps were getting closer.  _ "Protego!"  _ It was a shielding spell, but not nearly as strong as the one Draco had done in the hallway. 

With Draco's wrist in his hand, he drags them over to the portkey. 

"Are you mad?"

"Are  _ you _ ?" Malfoy looked him like he was crazy. He probably was.

"You'll be sent right back to that hellhole if we take that!"

"Now is  _ not _ the time to be a Gryffindor Malfoy," Harry nearly growls. "Grab the goddamn portkey."

_ "Fine!"  _

Draco grabs the pillowcase off the bed and wraps his hand in it then grabs the enchanted key. Harry has to do a double-take as he throws it through the empty door frame, yelling a spell in the process causing it to grow ten times its size in midair. 

_ "ARE YOU INSANE?" _

_ "Maybe!"  _

Harry thought it over. On one side, it was a horrible idea. He shouldn't let deatheaters into whatever private location unarmed Order members were waiting for him. On the other side, it sounded quite appealing at the moment.

"Problem solved."

"We can't just-"

"For Merlin's sake, Potter. Get on the broom before I push you out the window."

~~~

They didn't make it all the way to France. 

Draco was still shaking from the after-effects of the cruciuous curse and Harry's gut still felt like his Uncle had punched him. He had no idea what spell Draco's father had cast on him, but he was in no shape for flying.

They ended up staying at another muggle hotel. They got odd looks walking into the main hobby looking as if they had just survived a gang fight on a speedboat. Harry didn't really care at that point. He slapped down a galleon he had found in his pocket and demanded the nearest room.

It wasn't was a "chocolate on the pillow" hotel. The receptionist smelled of stale perfume and the tables had ashtrays instead of flowers. It was dingy, dark and cheap. Perfect. Harry said nothing as the room key was dropped into the lines of his hand.

Harry wasted no time heading towards the bathroom, throwing open the cabinets and finding the first aid kit. 

"I'm fine, Potter. The cruciatus curse doesn't leave any  _ real _ marks."

_ 'Only mental ones',  _ was the part left unsaid. 

"You're still hurt."

"And you aren't? A couple stinging hexes aren't going to kill me. I'm not an infant." Draco scoffs. Harry wished he knew what Malfoy was thinking. His expression was guarded and made Harry feel as lonely as ever.

"They could get infected."

Draco rolls his eyes. "Fine, but I'll do it myself. You'll probably accidentally curse me to grow wart every time I open my mouth."

"Wouldn't be such a bad idea."

Draco throws a pillow at him. "Shut up. And go take a shower. I need to clean your wounds as well."

Harry looked down at himself. He wasn't that bad. He's certainly gone through worse. Besides, he knew they were both still on their adrenaline rush. The minute he starts to relax it'll all come back to him. He was going to wring it as much as it was worth. 

He cast a quick _ Scourgify  _ charm and Draco sighed.

"I guess that will do for now."

They both sat on the bed across from each other with the muggle kit in between. Draco heard him stifle a gasp when he was asked to remove his shirt. 

"Yeah, yeah. I get it. I'm not - oh."

On his stomach was a large black stain. It looked as if someone broke a glass of ink onto his clothes that sunk through. But it was darker than the normal ink. And it was moving, growing just barely enough for him to notice.

Draco grabs another pillow and hits him over the head. "You  _ idiot _ ."


	16. Waves

**HARRY**

The little house stood on a slight rise just on the edge of the village and looked as if it was straight out of a fairytale with a happy ending or a picture book for little kids. It was old and dusty, but rather welcoming. It was a half-timbered house with an exterior made up of cream-colored panels and a heavy brown frame. A green gate with paint falling off was the door to the property. Then came a narrow dirt path with a small pebble, a tiny pond with lily pads and a few ducks, maybe a frog or two. A two-meter hedge surrounded the property. Vine grew up the archway and the arched wooden door with brown planks. The grass was green and yellow, scorched by the hot, blazing sun in the summer.

Neighboring houses had flowers or pies hanging out their window. He could see a couple kids the same age as some first and fourth years were playing out front throwing around a small oval ball Harry could barely keep track of.

"Pass den Ball oder ich werde deine Mutter ficken!" He heard one of them yell before getting tackled ruthlessly to the ground. Harry had no idea what language it was, but he knew it probably wasn't the most age-appropriate.

"For once, you weren't lying.”

Draco shrugs his shoulders dejectedly but doesn't respond. He had barely talked since they woke up this morning. He had distracted, lost look in his eyes though he tried to hide it. He only caught a couple glimpses when he looked off at something into the distance or zoned out.

Harry thought he would be relieved for some peace and quiet from the blonde so he could figure out whatever shit-storm was going on inside his head, but instead found himself missing it. Never were the two of them ever  _ silent  _ around each other _.  _ They were always throwing insults or name at each other even within these past few days. For nothing to come out of the popish git's mouth was ending up to be a curse in disguise.

There wasn't a lock on the door. Actually, there wasn't even a handle. On closer inspection, Harry saw it was just a silver plate where one should be. Draco seemed to know exactly what to do though because he was already bringing out his wand.

_"Diffindite,"_ he whispers and a small cut appears on the tip of his thumb. He pushes the wound onto the plate which eats it up greedily. There's a noise of a key in the lock and then the door swung open. Blood magic, _of course._

Harry followed right behind Draco and into the house. Harry looked around curiously as to what Draco had described so dreamily. The dining-room wasn't too big, but years of neglect had taken its toll. The table was long and solid wood. It stood like some medieval banqueting table in the middle of the room. The once crisp green wallpaper was torn in places. On the walls were gilded mirrors but the frames were dusty and the light that shone off them showed years of flecks of dirt and food that was never polished off. The floor at first glance appeared to be mud, but it was made of large terracotta flagstones. Above the table hung an old wrought iron candelabra with several black-wicked candles yet to be used.

"We should only be here for a few days so it shouldn't matter." Draco finally speaks. It was obvious the house had finally taken some edge off his mood. "There's another room on top. You can have it."

Draco wonders off, leaving him abandoned in a house he has no knowledge of. The dirtiness of it made him tick. His first instinct was to pick up the nearest cleaning supply and start scrubbing before someone came in. Then he remembered that he wasn't at the Dursleys any more.

He took a deep breath _. And hopefully for a long time after this. _

It didn't take Harry long to find the room Draco was talking about. It was small. Just enough space for a bed and dresser to fit comfortably without bumping your knees. It was plain too beside the random scribbling in red marker on the wall that had been painted over years prior.

Harry didn't have much to base it off of, but it didn't have a cat flap or spiders hanging around in the ceiling, so it was good enough to his standards. He dropped his truck and broom (back to normal thanks to Malfoy's precision in charms) and quickly made it his mission to find the nearest bathroom.

The floorboards creaked under Harry's feet as he explored the rest of the house. The walls were lined with dark oak panels and the ceiling lined with massive wooden beams Harry feared would collapse any minute. It wasn't a very big house really and he was glad. The only other room beside his on the second floor was a small library, neatly packed to the very brim of various books and one large desk that took up most of the back wall.

He found his way back down the spiral staircase where the dining room was. Just beside the kitchen was, in all its glory, finally what he hoped was a bathroom. Harry jiggled the door handle only to realize it was locked. He cursed. What kind of madman of an architect made a bathroom this hard to find?

It was then he finally spotted a pale green door leading away into the hall. And, to his relief, placed a shower and a toilet. Despite his scourgify charm from the night before, Harry still felt disgusting right down to his core. It might have been something due to the mark slowly gnawing at his stomach. He took off his shirt to examine it.

It wasn't as dark as it was this morning but still held an eerily milky grey moving underneath his skin. Draco had no idea what it was either, only that it was heavy dark magic. He was lucky enough that Malfoy knew what he was doing though because he managed to lock it into one place and keep it from doing whatever-the-hell to the rest of his body as well.

Harry discarded the rest of his clothes and stepped into the shower, toes flinching as they touched the chilled ceramic floor. He turned the dial, old and metallic, releasing thousands of lukewarm drops, darkening his hair and trickling down his back. His mind fades into dullness and everything is a foggy illusion. The sensation of the steamy water calms him; it takes his mind off things. All the things he wished he didn't have to care about.

Well, it usually did.

His mind was in shreds. He would never be able to get rid of the picture of Draco withering on the ground next to him out of his mind. He  _ hated  _ feeling so helpless and pathetic. It was like gasoline in his guts.

It was the same way he felt back in the graveyard. With...

Harry's eyes snapped open.

_ What the fuck. _

_ ~~~ _

_ The weather is the kind that feels like a kiss of summer without the fiery heat of noontime in August. The grass is a soft green that almost has a hint of blue and in the sky is enough pristine white cloud to show you how beautiful the sky was. The perfectly cut grass of the Quidditch pitch tickled the bottoms of Harry's feet and he was glad to be free of the confines of his shoes. He stopped and closed his eyes so that he could focus just on sound. There is was, the blackbird song, how could anyone not say that was music? He opened his eyes and let the daylight flood back in, bringing day right back into focus. _

_ "What are you thinking of?" _

_ Harry tilted his head aside from where it rested on the blanket. Harry watched as the boy's hair made a thousand shades of gold that made new mosaics each moment in the warm spring air. A wistful smile filled with utter content danced onto his face. Harry doesn't remember the last time he was this happy. _

_ "You.” _ __   
  


_ "Merlin, you're so cheesy!" Cedric laughs and brushes a stray hair from Harry's face. He was perched on both elbows and stomach, his body and face so close all Harry had to do was turn his neck a little to capture his lips. And so he does. _

_ Slowly, inexorably, he presses his lips to Hufflepuff's. It's soft and gentle and chaste and maybe there's no fireworks or sparks, but it's better than that - it's a wave of warmth that fills him up, spilling out from his heart and the warmth of Cedric's lips on his and rushing to every corner of his body: the cracks in between his toes, the crooks of his elbows, the tips of his ears. Every inch of him is saturated with happiness. Suddenly, Harry is glad the rest of the school was at Hogsmeade. Because right now, he didn't want to share this moment with anyone. _

_ When he invited Harry for a picnic he had imagined something out of a book he read from primary school; limp-looking peanut butter sandwiches and pumpkin juice. That's what he always imagined anyways. But when Cedric showed up with a spread of scotch eggs, fresh bread sandwiches, sausage rolls, and quiche Harry felt himself fall harder than he ever thought possible. _

_ When they finally broke apart, they both were dazed with dorky smiles as they stared into each other's eyes. Cedric's forehead was resting upon Harry's and they sat there in blissful silence. Being this close to him made Harry's heart twirl. Hearing his voice made his stomach flutter. He can't help but feel this way about him. His eyes, those deep amber eyes that could tell a whole story just by looking at them. And the way he moves. He trots along, effortlessly looking beautiful. He was the kind of person who lived how he believed people should as if he were sunshine that only radiated from the best aspects of those he met, their flaws entirely invisible to his gaze. He was a calm sea, dancing birdsong and the new buds of spring. _

_ "Harry..." He whispers slowly, his mood taking a sudden shift. "Harry, I need to tell you something." _

_ Harry's ears perk up. It was unlike Cedric to speak in such a solemn way. _

_ "If something happens in the third task-" _

_ Harry scoffs, playfully rolling back on his side and throwing a dramatic arm over his eyes to block out the light. "You're not going to die, Ced. The goblet chose you for a reason." _

_ Cedric seems unsure. "I barely got out with my life on the first task. Would have died had it not been for you." _

_ "So? You won first place in the second." _

_ " _ So,  _ dozens of others have died in the past. The third is the most dangerous and I only have a fifty-fifty chance." _

_ Harry shuts him up with a kiss. "Then we'll do it together, okay? If anything tries to harm you I'll kick their ass." _

_ Cedric ruffles his hair. "Yeah yeah, okay but..." _

_ He reaches into the picnic basket and brings out a bundled silver cloth Harry hadn' noticed until now. Slowly he unravels it, revealing a golden snitch. _

_ "The snitch from the first time we talked," Cedric explains. He releases it and it zooms around them like an excited puppy. Harry catches it easily and it stops fluttering. "I want you to have it." _

_ "Cedric, I told you-" _

_ "Please?" _

_ Harry's entire will collapses. "Okay...but I'm giving it straight back after." He glares and Cedric laughs. _

_ Harry carefully places it inside his pocket. The gift was probably one of the sweetest things anyone had ever given him (other than the scrapbook of his parents). _

_ "Also, It's activated only by my touch, so you can't cheat when we play anymore." Cedic teases and Harry pushes him away. _

_ "Thank you, Cedric." _

~~~

Harry stares at the snitch in his hand almost as if he could will the snitch to flutter just by staring at it. Merlin, would he do anything for the slightest bit of movement right now.

Harry was sitting at the base of his bed where he could just barely see the moon. Tonight it was a waning quarter. Harry briefly wondered what it looked like on the other side of the veil.

Eleven o'clock morphs into twelve and then one. The time trickles by, marked only by ticking numerals on the wall. Harry's mind is a disaster; where there should be dreams is a heavy darkness. It's excruciatingly lonely. Especially when he's thinking about  _ him _ .

Harry gave up on trying to go to sleep. He pushed aside the unopened letters Hedwig had brought him and decided to see if Malfoy had anything edible in the house. Anything was better than the tight numbness he was feeling right now.

He creaked open his door and carefully made his way to the kitchen. Harry was halfway down the stairs when he heard it. He nearly jumped out of his skin with fear his uncle would come out of nowhere and strangle him. But then it happened again and again until Harry realized it was the sound of a piano being played. Beautifully too. Harry could hardly believe his ears.

The melody was enchanting and so melancholy it was as if it was teaching his mind how to flow. The closer he got he realized the music was coming from the locked door from before. Only, now it was unlocked and cracked open just barely.

Malfoy was sitting at a piano bench. He was a mess with his hair sticking out in all different kinds of directions, dark heavy bags underneath his eyes, and disheveled clothing. His actions contradicted him though. They were elegant and graceful, never missing a beat.

Then Draco started  _ singing _ and Harry had to hold his breath. He felt like he was intruding on a private moment yet he could not look away.

_ "There is a swelling storm _

_ And I'm caught up in the middle of it all _

_ And it takes control _

_ Of the person that I thought I was _

_ The boy I used to know." _

Draco's voice rolled over him in sorrowful waves. Harry couldn't even tell if it was words that came from Draco. His voice was music, and grace and the haunting feeling in his voice was brought out in a fit of rage, of pain.

_ "But there, is a light _

_ In the dark, and I feel its warmth _

_ In my hands, and my heart _

_ Why can't I hold on? _ "

Harry starts to forget why he ever came down here in the first place. Instead, he watches as Draco's voice starts to pick up. For the first time ever it seemed Draco was wearing his heart on his sleeve for anyone to see and Harry was breathless.

_ "The freedom, of falling _

_ A feeling I thought was set in stone _

_ It slips through, my fingers _

_ I'm trying hard to let go _

_ It comes and goes in waves _

_ It comes and goes in waves _

_ And carries us away _ ."

Who knew Draco, king of Slytherin, could create something so heartfelt?

_ "I watched my wild youth _

_ Disappear in front of my eyes _

_ Moments of magic and wonder _

_ It seems so hard to find _

_ Is it ever coming back again? _

_ Is it ever coming back again? _

_ Take me back to the feeling when _

_ Everything was left to find." _

At this point, Harry knew he was definitely invading something personal. The lyrics were in an open letter to himself. He shouldn't be here.

Harry turned to go back up the steps.

It was dark and he could barely see where he was going without his glasses on. Suddenly, his foot catches on the leg of a table causing him to fall to the floor.

The music stops abruptly. Harry curses under his breath.

"Potter?"

Footsteps. Then; "Shouldn't you be asleep?"

Draco opens the door so he's staring down at Harry whose face was glowing red from being caught.

"Shouldn't you?"

"This is  _ my _ house." He points out, raising an eyebrow. 

Harry leans back on his elbows and frowns. “So? It’s past midnight..”

Draco rolls his eyes. “Ever the hypocrite.” He taunts with no real malice. Harry can’t help but observe the way his tone changes after hearing him sing. Whatever emotion he left a void on his face showed in his voice. He doesn’t understand how he had never noticed before. 

“You left the door open.” Harry counters. “If you didn’t want me to listen then shut the door.” The words leave his mouth faster than he can stop them. 

“I-,” Draco chokes. “You did what now?” 

His pitch is considerably higher than normal. Harry takes it as a victory and pulls himself back up with the help of the wall. 

“You’re….talented.” 

_ And that was a small way to put it.  _

Draco hums. “A compliment from the Boy-Who-Lived? One might think you’re a different person.” He leans shoulder first against the door frame with his arms crossed. The light from behind him makes his messy hair look more blonde than it already was.

“I’m serious. I didn't know you could play.”

Draco looks at him as if he was four. “Of course you wouldn’t have. You hate me. Did you forget?”

Brief pain flashed across Harry’s face. Draco notices and his attitude softens.

“My mother taught me. It’s traditional for Black’s to learn at a young age.”

Harry notices how he doesn’t mention his father’s name. 

“Oh,” Harry looks around awkwardly. “Can I listen…? I can’t, um, sleep.” 

“I’m not going to sing you lullabies if that’s what you’re asking Potter.”

“No! I just mean- Can you- Salazar, nevermind. Forget I asked.”

Harry, embarrassed, turns away to go back up the stairs. Draco hands fly out and catch his wrist. 

“Wait,” He asks, eyes wide. “It may not be…  _ completely _ out of the equation.”

Harry looks back with surprise. The very tips of Malfoy's ears turn a faint red, causing him to pull away.

“You can’t drool all over my piano like a baby, though. I cross the line there.”

Harry smiles. "Deal."


	17. The Wisp Sings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS guys I usually have chapters posted a couple of days on Wattpad before putting it on here

**DRACO**

"Tea or coffee?"

Draco looked up from his book. Harry was standing in the library doorway with a plate of food looking slightly out of place. Draco cursed under his breath. Did none of the locks work in this place? Harry's presence was the last thing he needed right now.

"Neither, now leave. Didn't anyone ever teach you to knock?"

Harry bites his lip with uncertainty. "I just thought you'd want someone-"

"I'm fine, Potter." He spits. "I'm not some foolish Gryffindor that needs to run crying over every mishap."

 _Lies_.

"Mishap? Malfoy are dense? Your father-"

"Is nothing I can't handle. I'm fine. Get out."

Harry takes another step forward, not hearing the sharp edge in his voice. Draco bit back his tongue and clenched his hand on his thigh hard enough to leave bruises from under the desk. Draco was already teetering on the edge of a mental breakdown when he came in. If he didn't leave soon he would either start crying or screaming. Or both. It wasn't an order, it was a warning.

Harry sets the plate down next to him and stares at him expectantly. Draco takes one glance before turning back to his book. He could hardly pay attention to what it was saying.

"You need to eat."

"Did you not hear what I said?" Draco seethes. "This is my goddamn house. Leave me alone. I don't need _you_ telling me what to do."

"You need to talk to someone. You can't just sit here and deteriorate from existence."

Without warning, Draco's fist slams onto the table with a bang, startling the brunet.

"I said I'm _fine_!"

Harry backs up hesitantly, suddenly nervous and scared. Out of the corner of his eyes he sees the boy subconsciously pat his back pocket for his wand. It only caused the back of Draco's eyes to burn hotter.

Draco wanted to yell; throw a fit. How did everything he did make him so selfish? His father just wanted him close and to follow in his footsteps. It was his fault he couldn't be a good son. And how did he repay him? Nearly killing him. Spitting at his feet and rejecting him. His mother and Bramble too. Now it was Harry, who just wanted to make sure he didn't starve to death despite hating him, only to remind him of his horrid uncle.

Draco seemed to be causing more harm than good.

The world turned into a blur, and so did all the sounds. The taste. The smell. The small, false sense of ground underneath him slipped. He paused trying to hold back the strange feelings rumbling inside him but he couldn't. A tear started to trace down his cheek despite his best efforts, and just like that, the floodgates opened. So many tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down his face. Draco's chin trembled as if he was a small child.

What was he even doing? He was breaking down in front of Harry Potter of all people. He felt pathetic. He couldn't even do one of the simplest things asked of him. Even crying he was _still_ disappointing his father.

Book forgotten, he pushed his face in his hands to hide his increasingly blotching face. He just wanted to crawl in a hole and die from embarrassment and shame. He also just wanted to scream until his throat went raw. He hated himself so much. He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't be alive. He should be someplace suffering for everything he's done. He deserved so much more pain; he should be welcoming everything happening to him. Yet some greedy part of him just wished for it all to go away and become the same ignorant twelve-year old he once was. If only he could just smother it to death.

He didn't even notice Potter leave the room and come back with a blanket. Harry wrapped the warmth around his shoulders and shoved a steaming mug into his hands. He only looks up when Harry is sitting right next to him on a stool that wasn't there moments earlier.

"I don't know much about your home life Malfoy but I know he's wrong. Truce or not. People like that...I don't think they have much humanity left in them to realize what they're doing. They're blinded by hate."

He wanted Harry to leave. The other's words were only making the stones in my stomach heavier. There have been too many touchy-feely moments between the two of them the past few days. One more and he'll be ready to jump off a cliff.

Draco pushed the mug away and looked at the wall. How did so much change so fast?

"Draco."

"My fa-" he chokes, "My father isn't bad. You have no idea what you're talking about. Shut up."

Draco doesn't have to turn around to know Harry's face was one of confusion. Draco could hardly blame him. He was too- did he really believe that? He should. He wanted to.

"But you said-"

"Yea _well_ , I was wrong. I wasn't thinking straight."

Harry mumbles something underneath his breath. "But...he put you under the cruciatus curse? He's a deatheater. What are you even talking about? Of course he's _bad_."

Draco flinches slightly and pulls the blanket tighter around his shoulders. He could practically feel the dark ink on his forearm moving with a mind of its own. Merlin, he was disgusting. _Tainted_. Harry had no idea. And if he did, he probably wouldn't be sitting where he was right now.

"Not everything is black and white," he hisses pathetically. "You can't just look at one side of the mirror and decide which side is right. Stop talking like you know me. You don't. Now just-" he wiped his face lazily and waved at the door, "leave me the bloody hell alone."

Harry looked down at his feet and hands, not leaving but contemplating something. Draco's fingers twitched in annoyance and humiliation.

The mug was pushed back toward him. "Drink it. Your body can't cry and drink at the same time."

Draco looked up at it with wide eyes. His throat nearly closed up. Instead of pushing it away like every reasonable part of him wanted, he grabbed hold of it desperately with shaky hands still refusing to meet Harry's eyes.

Bramble had taught him that. Now she was dead because of him.

"You know, you'd think after five years of glaring everytime I hear your name, this would be different." He places this head on the desk and tilts it so Draco has a clear view of his face. His glasses were on the edge of slipping off the smooth slope of his nose and a strand of loose hair was blocking his eyes. "This entire situation I mean. Maybe I'm just imagining things but I know less than a week ago I don't think I would have had the same reaction I did to the other night. You scared me. That's not the reaction I thought I would have, so maybe you're right. But you're also wrong."

"You're...insane," He sniffs.

Harry shrugs awkwardly and looks up at him with a sheepish smile. Draco wondered how he was talking so casually. "Not the first time I've been told that. I'm serious though. You're wrong. I don't know you. I thought I did, but I don't think that was ever you."

"Sorry to burst your bubble Potter, but this is me. A cold, manipulative git. Nothing more and nothing less." The words come out harsher than he thought. Cold and impersonal.

"So you're in the black and white and your father isn't? You have to be on something, Malfoy." He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath with a slightly pained expression. "We've all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That's who we really are. And I think you can change."

Draco fell silent for awhile. What Potter was saying made sense but that didn't mean his mind would accept it. Potter was just making things up out of his arse. He wouldn't be saying that if he saw the mark on his arm or the evil psychopath taking residency in his home.

"What makes you so sure, huh?"

Harry shrugs and pushes himself back up into a sitting position. "I don't know- it's just a nagging feeling I have I guess. You're not like your father is what I'm trying to get out."

Draco's head whips around fast. There's a mix of pain and anger in his fiery, narrowed eyes. "Yeah I noticed asshole. You don't have to remind me."

He stands up as fast as he can, chair falling behind him, and makes for the door. He slams it shut with as much force as he can manage before practically running down the steps. It was pathetic and he knew that, but didn't stop the urgency to get as far away from Potter as humanly possible.

 _"Fine, run away from your problems then Draco! You're going to end up accidentally killing yourself one day and Pansy and I are going to be the ones stuck picking up the pieces."_ Blasie's fourth year voice rings inside his head. Why it came back then he had no idea, only it made Draco feel sick to his stomach and hold a hand over his mouth. Thoughts were accelerating inside his head. Draco wanted them to slow so he could breathe but they wouldn't.

He grabbed the nearest coat off the rack and went out the backdoor where the garden was. He would leave the property if there wasn't the risk of death eaters finding him again. His best hopes were to hide and hopes that Harry wouldn't be coming after him. Salazar's name, he felt like a four year old.

There was a gate of rough wood as big as a cow and ivy cascaded over the fence, growing tendrils in every direction. The stone path was punctuated with weeds after every stone. The dishevelled, un-manicured lawn was more moss than grass and was overshadowed by huge weeping willow flowing down onto the dank and squishy ground. Clusters of defiant daffodils reared their golden heads amidst the gloom and there were smatters of fuchsia alongside the scarlet and saffron hued primroses.

Near the very base of the tree there was a clear patch of grass where he sat down, not caring the slightest if his trousers were to get dirty. He digs his fingers into it and pulled up random clumps to keep the storm behind his eyes at bay.

He just wanted everything to stop. It seemed as if every thought inside his brain had turn against each other is war. Not a single one agreed with each other. To achieve one thing conflicted with the other. He wanted to be the perfect son, yet he also wanted to burn in whatever afterlife was waiting for him.

The thought was unmovable. He deserved to die. He was too much of a coward to really ever do anything though. After everything he's done there was no denying it. He was cruel and unforgiving. He'd made countless people feel the way he was now. He was under the command of a monster who killed thousands for his own psychopathic needs. And he hadn't even tried to fight back when it happened. Bramble's blood was even on his hands now. The bars were low for him so why couldn't he bring himself to do better?

Blaise's words came back to him. Would that be true? Pansy and Blasie were the only other people who had seen him fuck up and explode like he just had. They were the only people he could ever consider friends, even if he knew they might just being using him to gain superiority in whatever pureblood rank nonsense that had been fed into all of them. Would they even care? Would they agree with him?

He pushed the palms of his shaky hands into his eyes and looked up at the fading sky. Either one of them might be next to be pushed into the dark lords crutches and it would be his fault.

For a sliver of a moment he had thought Harry _might_ have understood what was going on inside his head. He had no idea.

Draco doesn't know how long he sits there in the cold being miserable and angry. It turns dark enough for him to look up and see tiny specks of light above him. It's cold enough for him to wrap his arms around himself and wish he had looked a bit harder before mistaking grabbing Potter's jacket instead.

The crunch of dead grass coming near him is what catches his attention. It was Potter and he had to consciously keep himself from clenching his hands. Did this man listen to anything he was told?

The footsteps came closer and stopped within a couple feet in front of him. He refused to acknowledge his own existence and instead took to glaring at the Gryffindor's shoes as if they themselves had wronged him.

"I'm sorry."

Draco doesn't respond. He hoped it would send a message that he wasn't in the mood. Even if he wanted to speak, he couldn't. The clump in his throat was far too large.

Harry scratches the back of his neck and continues on. "I- I didn't understand and...I apologize. You're right, I don't know you. This entire thing could be an illusion I've made up inside my head just because of the truce. You could be faking and I could be walking right into a trap really. The thing is...I don't believe that could be possible.

"My gut instinct never have been the best but it's telling me right now that you aren't a bad person. Rationally, that's stupid because of everything that's happened between us and yet- Ron probably kill me for saying this- I don't think you meant it. It tells me that maybe now both of us think this stupid rilvery may be doing more harm than good and uh-" Harry stuffs his thumbs into trouser pockets and awkwardly looks up at the sky. "What I'm trying to say is that I don't know you but after all of this, maybe I wish I did. Okay? Don't laugh at me."

Draco is silent. He didn't even know how to respond. Did he make his emotions that obvious?

He knew he didn't deserve Harry's forgiveness. He had done so much to warrant his hatred, so what did he do to warrant his apology?

Draco took a deep breath with his eyes closed and tried to remember Brambles words. This could be his chance to switch everything around. He wasn't dense. He could see an opportunity when he was one. The only question was though, was he too much of a coward to take it?

Draco struck out a hand. 

It was only seconds later after the brunet took it did he notice the burning comet soaring over both of their heads.


	18. Colourways

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

**[Colurways]**

**HARRY**

There were only three more days until the start of term and not nearly enough time to figure out whatever the bloody hell was happening.

Within the span of four days he finally escaped the Dursely's, manged to be on the run from the Ministry, get attacked by deatheaters, get on a first name basis with Draco-Fucking-Malfoy, and get hit by whatever dark magic was eating at him at aching like a bludger to the stomach. Not to mention they still had no idea how any of this started in the first place.

They were in the library again. This time they were both huddled over books clear of tears.

He looked up without moving his head to glance up at Draco. He'd be lying if he said he didn't expect Draco to start breaking down. Last night he looked so incredibly fragile, almost as if you could bown a leaf at him and he'll shatter. It was eye-opening, really. This was a whole new side of Draco that Harry didn't think anyone had ever seen before. He felt honored but also great a responsibility not to break it.

Draco looked up from his book and threw back the rest of his hot chocolate. (He was addicted. Harry tried to voice these thoughts but only was glared at and told to pour another glass). He looked just as exhausted as Harry felt.

"I don't get it. The Festival of Wonder is supposed to be a wizarding holiday! How is there _nothing_ in any of the books about it? I'm a pure-blood wizard for Mercy's sake. I should have learned _something_ about it by now."

Harry's lips twitched into a frown. "Maybe that's not it's real name?"

Draco's brows furrowed. "What do you mean? The Festival of Wonder is what both called it."

"I know _that_. But think about Easter. Some people call it Pascha. Same way with Christmas and Xmas. It wouldn't be too hard to believe. I don't know about you, but 'The Festival of Wonder' sounds made up by a child."

Draco crosses his arms and stares at him from the other side of the table. If he didn't know any better he would say he was glaring. "Okay, but what about Cassowary's comet then? Still not even a whispers in any of these books."

Harry shrugs. "I don't know? Same rule maybe. I'm only guessing..."

Draco sighed exasperatedly . "How did you ever manage to survive up until this point, Potter?"

"Hermione." He answered simply. Without her he wouldn't be standing where he was right now. Thinking about her only made him feel guilty. What would her reaction be if he told her that he'd been hanging around Draco this entire time? Salazar forbid Ron ever found out. He would have a field day. He still had multiple unopened letters sitting on top of his trunk just for that reason. He couldn't bring himself to lie to them even with everything happening.

Draco rolled his eyes and snorted. "Right. Of course."

Harry raises an eyebrow. "Oh don't pretend to be high-all-mighty. You would have been eaten alive in first-year hadn't it been for Crabbe and Goyle at your side twenty-four-seven."

Draco tilted back his chair a little and his head fell back in a short laugh. "Probably. Those idiots don't even know how to cast a simple locking charm."

Harry finds himself smiling too against all odds. This 'getting along' thing was weird and new but he definitely wasn't complaining. Sure, he had to fight back insults sometimes but that was out of habit, not spite. The more they would sit together in silence he found himself _wanting_ to spark a conversation.

He was absolutely crazy and he very well knew it. Four days was way too fast for a hatred to evaporate into thin air, let alone become fond.

Harry tore his burning gaze away and shrugged his shoulders. "We could search the Hogwarts library when term starts. Your collection is a paperclip compared to the school's."

Draco's face dropped slightly. "Potter..."

"Harry. It's Harry."

"Harry," he corrects himself then wincing. "I'm not sure I'm _going_ back."

Harry's face drops in surprise. " _What?_ Why?"

"Think Potter. I have a horde of death eaters who want me dead, a father who will stop at nothing to get to me, and by default know too much and have a prize on my head by the Dark Lord. Take your pick."

"Oh come on you can't back out now! Voldermort-"

"Don't say his name you dunce-"

"-has been after my head since I was a baby and I'm fine right?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Aside from mental damage?"

"Yeah okay," Harry rolled his eyes. "My point is, Hogwarts is the safest place in all of Europe aside from Gringotts. They won't be able to reach you there."

"Remind me P- Harry just how many times you have been attacked while inside that castle's walls?"

"Um-"

"Exactly. It's not exactly the same when your father is a highly-valued member of the ministry who can get almost anything he wants. He can just ask nicely and I'll be handed right over to him on a silver platter."

"We'll just tell Dumbledore-"

"Have you forgotten already that if you go back as well the ministry will snap your wand? You'll be back with your relatives in a click of your finger."

Harry fell silent. He hadn't thought of that. The thought of never doing magic again was almost as terrifying as being with the Dursley's until he could move out. He would have to watch from afar as Ron and Hermione studied for their N.E.W.T.'s and graduate without him. Voldermort would find him one day and he'll be left defenseless to die at the same hand who killed his parents. Or he could live in hiding the rest of his life. No one would ever know where he was. He'll be safe and so would everyone he loved. Either way he'll be in exile the rest of his life. Could he ever handle that?

"I'm sure Dumbledore will think of something. He wouldn't let that happen."

"Are we not talking about the same old, manipulative bastard? You said it yourself, Dumbledore knew exactly what was going on inside that house and despite your desperate pleas he left you there."

"He had his reasons. It was the only place safe for me," Harry frowned heavily causing Draco to scoff.

"Safe? Harry, it's obvious what he's doing. He's _manipulating_ you. If Hogwarts was safe he could have never let you out of the grounds."

"Manipulating is a harsh word... He knows what he's doing. Fair enough I would probably be safer somewhere else but he's thinking of war. Long-term stuff. He has his reasons. I can't sacrifice everyone else's lives for my happiness."

"Merlin, you really are dense, aren't you?" He rubs his forehead. "He's using you as a pawn in whatever twisted war games are going up inside his head. He's disfigured you like clay and turned you into a toy soldier. He left you there so you'll be moldable. And you- you don't even care! He has you wrapped around his pretty little finger."

"Draco, I get it. You dislike Dumbledore. He's shady, I know. But either way he's going to be the one to help me end this war. I don't really have much of a choice but to trust him."

"So what? Who said you _have_ to fight? You shouldn't have to be thrown into this war just because some psychopath killed your parents."

Harry rubs his face with his hands and sighs. "It's not as easy as that. I have to do it whether I want to or not."

"Where is it written? Where is it written you _have_ to fight?"

Harry goes silent. Only the Order, Ron, and Hermione, and him knew the prophecy dictating the course of his life. He felt as if he could trust Malfoy. He had helped him fight against death eaters at the inn despite his father being in the ranks. Though, wanting to get along with someone and telling them life-saving information in a time of war was something different all together. His ground with him was a little unsteady to trust such a heavy secret. It just wasn't smart.

"You're getting off track," Harry points out. "You're right. Dumbledore may be using me but what other option do I have? He's playing his cards right. He wouldn't let them snap my wand. If you asked he could probably help you too."

"I don't want to be a _pawn_ , Harry. I just want to be me."

"Would you rather be found again? You can't live your life alone for the rest of your life.You can't just sit in the shadows while everyone else does the work for you. I've seen first hand what Voldemort is capable of. You can't hide. Or run. You'll just end up at his feet, begging to die. And I just-" Harry clears his throat and closes his eyes as if he's in pain. "This is _war_. You don't have a choice."

Draco stares at him as though he just stabbed him through the chest. He looks back down at his book as if he is contemplating something. "I don't understand how you can be so selfless after everything. You've never had a break. Don't you ever want to hold on to something? Give people who've wronged you a taste of their own medicine?"

"Well yea. "I'm not a saint as you'd like to believe," Harry smirks. "I've thought about it more than once. Acted on it actually. Almost killed your aunt. In the end I always figured there's not much point in it, is there? There's already been enough bloodshed. If me holding back if what is going to help Voldemort die then so be it. Better me than anyone else."

"Uhg," Draco rubs his forehead, "You're hero complex is acting up again. Mind if I vomit?"

"I'm serious though! You would be safe at Hogwarts. You don't have to go to the headmaster I suppose, but you have to think about it. Do you want to be on the run the rest of your life with no more than a 5th year education against Voldemort's merciless army or do you want to help get rid of him once and for all?"

Draco closes his book then gets up off of his seat to put it back on the bookshelf. It was ten in the morning and the two still had half a pile of books to comb through about wizarding traditions and permanent dark magic curses.

"Fine, I'll think about it."

"We only have three more days."

"So? As far as we know you could be expelled right now. There is no rush."

Harry could hardly stand the idea of being expelled from Hogwarts. It was his _home_... He needed to talk to Dumbledore. He was the only person who could sort all of this out. He voiced his thoughts to the blonde who shrugged. "Fine, talk to the crazy bastard if you insist. Use an anti-tracking charm on your owl. I don't want anyone to find us after we just escaped. Also-" he lifts up his mug with a pout that resembled a kicked puppy. "More please?"

Harry scowled. "You've already had nearly five glasses. Don't you think that's a little much?"

"I can't help it. I haven't had sweets in months. I'm suffering from withdrawal."

"Have you ever gone to a dentist?"

"A what now?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Nevermind."

He stood from his seat to grab the mug in annoyance when he suddenly felt light-headed.

It was as if his heart had suddenly stopped beating and all the blood had run down into his shoes. He swayed for just a moment, grabbing onto the table, before Draco noticed. His eyes winded for a millisecond and then moved swiftly, catching him and lowering him back into the chair.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Draco demands. "You almost just collapsed out of nowhere!"

"I didn't know, Draco. Maybe ask the mark on my stomach. It's didn't exactly to fall in your arms like a fucking damseal in distress. _Shit_." Harry winces heavily, resting his head on the table and holding his stomach. Waves of heat coursed through his blood as cold sweat glistened in his gaunt features. It felt as if someone was injecting fire straight into his veins

"I need to get the bathroom." He mumbled feverishly, holding his hands over his mouth.

Harry stumbled out of the room with Draco's help, and with each step his stomach tightened and ached all the more. The wave of nausea that hit Harry was so intense that he hardly made it to the toilet bowl before he emptied his stomach. Ashen faced, he clung to it as a life raft. His stomach felt like the bag in a set of bag-pipes being vigorously squeezed. With a heaving lurch of his stomach another small mouthful of bile dribbled from his quivering lips into the waiting pool of rancid vomit.

Draco flicks his wand next to him with a quickly cleaning charm. Harry slumps back, dazed in pain. The worst part seemed to be over and the rest seemed to be fading fast after it. It still hurt like arse though. He tried to pull himself up with the sink only for his legs to give out halfway and his knee's to bang loudly on the bathroom tile.

"Need help?"

"Oh piss off."

He takes Draco's hand though who helped lead him towards his room.

"Take off your shirt." Draco demands as soon as Harry managed to crawl back into his bed.

" _Woah_ , Draco. Don't you think you should ask me on a date first?" Harry manages to tease despite the pounding headache in his head. He could hardly pay attention with his heart beat flooding his ears. He was just suddenly so _tired_. He closed his eyes for a brief second before getting snapped at by the blonde.

"I'm serious. I need to check your stomach."

Harry grumbled something unintelligible under his breath.

" _Potter_."

"Fine."

He tore the greenish-blue shirt from off his back before leaning back into the pillows with a satisfied sighed. He would have passed out right then had it not been for Draco's sharp curses.

"I thought you said it wasn't hurting!"

"It wasn't," he mumbled tiredly. "It didn't"

He looked down at himself where the black ink on his stomach was an even darker black than before and spread from hip to hip. Draco reached out to touch it resulting in a sharp wince from Harry.

"Bollocks. You just vomited in my toilet and on the edge of passing out. You _idiot._

Just because you have a high pain tolerance doesn't mean you should have to be in pain."

Harry hummed loopily as if the tiredness had made him go mad. "You worry too much Draco. I'm _fine_."

"I'm happening to worry just the right amount as someone in my situation would, thanks."

"Hmmmmm. You don't look 'ike it. You don't show it but I can hear it in your 'oice." Harry responded, slurring his words together. He had himself curled under the blankets without taking the time to put his shirt back on.

"What?" Draco asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"...forgot. I'm 'ired."

He truly did. He could barely keep his eyes open let along keep his thoughts in line. Why was he keeping him awake anyways? Quite rude of him.

"It's... fine. Just go to sleep."

The brunet curled himself up in a ball under the thick green comforter with a contented sigh. The morning light from the open window shone through the curtains followed by the sounds of birds singing and kids laughing.

"Goodnight 'Ced."


	19. I'll Be Good

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

**[I’ll Be Good]**

**DRACO**

_ My dearest friend, _

_ What the fuck where you thinking? Defying the Dark Lord? Are you out of your bloody mind?  _

_ My father has been out till dawn these past few nights trying to calm the Dark Lord with  _ your _ foolish mistakes. You’re lucky I have no idea where you are or I’ll be hexing you until you can’t even hold your wand. Just wait until term starts.  _

_ I went over to the manor last night.Your father had worn himself sick with worry trying to find you. I would be too if I didn’t know you enough to say you’ll fix your mistakes sooner or later. You would never leave so many loose ties open. You’re just being ridiculous.  _

_ I overheard you finally got your mark. Did it really hurt that bad? I don’t get mine until Christmas break. Unfair honestly, seeing as I’m older. There’s rumor going around that you fought against them too. Rubbish if you ask me. Mother always has been one for gossip. I’ve known you since you were seven after all. You’ve been wanting it your entire life! You would have never tossed up such a golden opportunity. _

_Is it true he entrusted you with a secret mission? No one will tell me. You_ have _to explain_ _on the train. Maybe you’ll finally get revenge on Granger for third year, yeah?_

_ -P.P. _

_ P.S. your mother misses you. _

Draco stared at the letter. He felt numb staring at the words scribbled onto the letter.

Pansy was insane. This entire time her loyalties were always blurry, but he always had hope that she’d had it all up as an act to please her mother just like he did. Maybe she was pulling his leg or her parents forced her to write. It was the only time he’d heard from her all summer and it would make sense. 

Draco’s eye’s burn. He doesn’t even notice when his hands clench into a fist, crinkling the letter along with it. If he couldn’t trust her to be putting up an act, then all hope in Blasie was lost. Out of the two she was always the more trustworthy one. 

He had to hope she meant no harm in it. Perhaps it was like his mother, thinking she was just doing what she thought best for him. She just hadn’t broken out of the same loop of ignorance as he did in fourth year. The thought made him clench his teeth. He wanted anything to wake her up out of her disillusioned daydream before the death and toture got to her. Yet he knew it would be no use. That kind of brainwashing he knew first hand didn’t listen to outside reason.

He let out a loud curse before crushing up what was left of the paper he had unconsciously torn to pieces into a ball then threw it into the nearest bin.

“ _ Incendio!”  _

The paper quickly burst into flames. The radiation burns his eyes but he hardly notices the way he is holding back a scream. He watches the fire as if it can burn up his inner rage, as if his frustrations and anger are the fuel turning it into black confetti.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there for. It's the surprising aroma of food breaking through the thick smoke that snaps him out of it. Harry was cooking.

Draco tore his gaze away from the bin and extinguished it with a water charm. In the kitchen Harry was standing in front of a stove, stirring something on the pan that smelled suspiciously like the same pepper and cheese omelette Bramble used to make. 

The brunet’s back was turned from him when he cussed loudly down at the pan. He was muttering something about burnt food and trouble under his breath. 

Draco clears his throat.

The boy whips around quickly with the spatula still in his shaky hands. There was a slight fear in his eyes that only faded slightly at seeing who it was. 

“Oh. It’s just you.”   
  
“Of course it is. Are you doubting the ability of my wards?”   
  
“No! I just..um…”   
  
Draco leans against the counter. Potter had already laid out an array of food next to the stove. roasted tomatoes, steamed potatoes, bacon, and a platter of golden biscuits. It was a bit much for only two people. Draco wondered how he even got at the food. He knew he didn’t have  _ that _ much under preserving charms. 

“You made breakfast.”   
  
“Yes...”   
  
“Why?”

Harry turned off the heat and took whatever he was making off the burner. “I was nervous. I had to do something to keep my busy.”

Draco grabbed a piece of bacon from the basket. It broke over his tongue, perfectly crisp, perfectly salty. The flavor was like a bomb in his mouth, exploding in all the right ways. He was a phenomenal cook, better than his old house elves probably despite decades of practice. 

“You seemed perfectly capable yesterday morning.”   
  
Harry’s cheeks lit up. “I’m sorry. I don’t really remember all that much yesterday. Before it happened I mean.”

Draco gave him a long stare. There were bags underneath his eyes and his hair was largely disheveled. He clearly wasn’t lying about being nervous. He looked like an honest train wreck. Though, Draco was definitely not judging. Salazar only knows the last time he tried to put a good amount of effort into his own appearance. 

“You lied is what. I  _ specifically _ told you to tell me if it got worse and you didn’t.”

Harry’s nose scrunched up, which had Draco unconsciously comparing him to a confused stoat. “I was telling the truth.It was just  _ there _ suddenly and hurt like a bitch.”   
  
“So much so that you pass out for almost twenty-four hours?”   
  
Harry shrugged. “It wasn’t that long. I woke up at about eleven.”

This is when Draco should have said along the lines of ‘you want to talk about it?’ But for the life of him the words would not leave his mouth. He didn’t want to cross any boundaries with him. They had only just agreed to get along, he wasn’t going to mess that up now. He knew when and where he wasn’t wanted.

Instead he grabbed a plate down from the cabinet, shoving a large portion of each item onto it before giving it to Harry. “You need to eat. If we’re going on that train tomorrow you’re going to need all the energy you can get. Even from an outsider’s perspective it’s obvious how much they mother hen you.”

Harry took the plate with wide eyes as if he wasn’t expecting to actually get to eat his own food.. “Wait- you’re coming back? That's great!”

Draco sighed and crossed his arms. He made his own plate then sat at the kitchen counter. “Only for the fact I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if Granger graduated with the top marks. I’ll be a laughing stock for the rest of my life.”

Draco knew he was going to regret it though as soon as he stepped inside the cool, dungeon walls. The Slytherins would eat him alive. He had betrayed a lot of them and they did not take a threat on the home-front kindly. He might as well be walking straight back into the manor. There would be letters flying out to the Dark Lord as soon as people saw him.

He wasn’t prejudiced. There were obviously some good Slytherins who weren’t part of the dark lords cult who wouldn’t care. That would only last for a week tops maybe. One of their many traits just happened to be being manipulative and persuasive. 

In all honestly he had no idea why he was doing it. Potter's grin seemed contagious though because he was soon cracking one of his own. 

“What about your books?”   
  


“Ordered them by owl last night. They’ll be here tonight.”   
  


Harry hummed. “So we’ll both be going then.”

“But what of the ministry?”   
  
“Oh!” Harry hopped up. “I forgot!”   
  
Draco didn’t have a chance to get a word out before Harry hopped out of his seat and ran up the stairs like an overactive puppy. When he came down he had thick cream colored letter in his hand. He raised an eyebrow but didn’t speak as Harry slapped the envelope on the counter for him to read. 

_ To Harry James Potter _

_ The Ministry of Magic _

Draco looked down wearily then back up at Harry’s expression. Was he this happy about getting expelled? He knew he was bad at potions but he didn’t know it was  _ that _ bad. 

“Open it.”   
  
He obliged, carefully not to rip the official looking paper. 

_ Dear Mr. Potter, _

_ It is with great honor that we grant you immunity to the  _ _ International Statute of Secrecy _ _ and  _ _ Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery. After many tedious and hard-working hours in council it has been decided the best action to prevent any precarious harm in the years ahead. The return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and your connection to him has caused you to be left in a special circumstance we must not ignore. We have taken in account of the danger placed upon you and we trust you will not abuse the power trusted in you.  _

_ As of  _ _ Arabella Doreen Figg, she has made it clear she does not wish to press charges. She has explained the severity of the situation to us of the night of August 26th which helped greatly in your case in the chamber room.  _

_ We wish you good luck on your upcoming school year and your trials ahead. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister of Magic. _

Draco was thoroughly impressed. The ministry wasn’t one to play around with secrecy laws, especially international ones. The only other person he knows of to receive such was Albus Dumbledore himself and that was only after his defeat of  Grindelwald. The Ministry had to be scared out of their wits for them to allow something like this. 

“I got it this morning. I’m not expelled anymore!”

“I suppose so.” He slips the letter and permit back into the envelope. If they both were going to go back that would most likely be the end of whatever was between them now. The thought left him feeling oddly hollow. It had to happen eventually he knew. Only practical. Nothing good lasts forever and the past few days were too bittersweet to begin with. He just didn’t expect it to make him feel empty. Bramble did say the star put them together for a reason whatever that meant. 

Draco decided to go ahead and rip that bandaid and get it over with. “I can finally forget this past week ever happened then. You’ll be off with the weasel and muggle doing whatever trouble you enjoy and I’ll get to go back to being the same insufferable git as always.”

Harry’s face falls briefly and for a brief second he thinks he’s going to whip out his wand and hex him, but instead he receives an unexpected shove to the shoulder. “Yeah right. You should hear your voice. You can’t even believe that yourself. We made a truce, remember? You shook the hand. You’re not allowed to go back.”

Draco stares at him, mouth slackened. He had to be joking, right? No one willing  _ wanted  _ him around. They kept him around until his own usefulness dulled out, not because they actually liked him. He was disgusting. Potter had no reason to keep him around anymore. Everything up until this point had been an act to keep Draco playing nice. It was so obvious after seeing it happen so often. Just this once he had chosen to ignore it like the dense fool he was in exchange for a brief second of peace. Even if it was going to stab him in the back in the end. 

Again the stupid voice in his head spoke up and made him wonder if Potter really  _ did _ mean all that he had said the night before in the garden. It made him hopefully and yet he wanted to smash it with a hammer. It would be wrong to get him hope up just yet. It was just like Potter’s character to try and keep up the act so Draco didn’t get hurt even if it was at his own expense.

“I’m not a fool, Potter. I can detect a lie when I hear one. I’m not a delicate dandelion puff that needs to be plucked gently in danger of being blown away. I can take care of myself.” 

Harry sets down his fork mid-bite . “What's your problem, Draco? I already said I want to get to know you. Do I need to get you a friendship bracelet or something? Let you sign my yearbook? I never said you couldn’t take care of yourself. I don’t even understand where you got that from.”

“I’m  _ talking _ about how you don’t have to let me down easily. You can stop pretending now.”   
  


“ _ Wha-?  _ I’m not! Are...you?”

Draco is taken aback from the question. Was he? He didn’t think so. He had let himself take the risk and fall and hoped the other would catch him. Yet, at the same time, he knew how it was all going to turn out in the end, so were any of his emotions real at all? 

“No.” He decided on simply. 

“Then me neither.”   
  
Draco squinted at him. “That’s not how it works.”   
  


“Are you trying to get me to hate you?”

“No, I’m trying to get you to wake up and realize you already do.”   
  
They sit knee deep in silence. The faucet drips into the sink, each one reverberating around the room like a cymbal, yet neither blink or move to stop it.

Draco can feel the dread in his chest wanting to take over. Perhaps it only wants to protect him but there really isn't any danger. It sits there like an angry ball propelling him towards an unstoppable sadness he just doesn’t want. He just needs him to say the words that will help them both in the long-run, even if it hurts. 

“Well...I don’t? Sorry if that’s not what you want to hear but it’s the truth. I thought I did but you clearly aren’t the same person as I thought. I feel like I’m just repeating myself. I’m pretty certain I’ve already mentioned all this already.”   
  


Draco nearly screamed. Why did he make it so much harder than it needed to be? Because now he was doubtful and that just made it ten times more painful.

Draco looked down at his plate realizing it was already empty. It had been awhile since he ate that much. His appetite for anything meal related hasn’t been that big since he just sat and watched as the Dark Lord torture and murder a muggle doctor at his dining room table.

Potter said he thought he was a different person. He couldn’t begin on how wrong that statement was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda boring chapter again sorry lads. Have some self-destructive Draco Malfoy as a filter because how else do I cope other than project myself on my favorite characters?? His thought process is probably confusing af for other people but it’s exactly how I think so??? Next chapter is when things start picking up again.


	20. You're Somebody Else

**Chapter Nineteen**

**[You're Somebody Else]**

**HARRY**

On September the first the platform was a seething mass of humanity. Every wizard in England seemed to be shoulder to shoulder, in each other's faces, no personal space, no exceptions. There were parents giving their children goodbye hugs, wiping tears from their faces, making sure they had everything they needed before leaving for the next four months. Other parents, mostly ones from long lineages of pureblood aristocratic families, thought they were above such shows of affection and instead settled for solemn faces and belittling attitudes towards the side.

Draco's trolley squeaked next to Harry's as they made their way towards the loading dock. He was fitted with the same glamour as a few days before to not bring attention to himself just in case there were death eaters on prowl. Harry wanted to point out if there really were death eaters he would probably already know and that their main focus would be on the Boy-Who-Lived, not the blonde. Then he realized that probably made him sound ignorant - that Draco was fine and had perfect reason to be worried- and he should keep his mouth shut before he started sounding like Professor Snape.

"Everyone's staring at you," Draco whispered snidely to the left of him. He was doing a horrible job of being inconspicuous for someone who was supposed to be a Slytherin. Harry suggested that he should act like he didn't know him but Malfoy had waved the comment off dismissively saying something about hiding in plain sight.

"Blimey! I wonder why?"

Draco shoves him. " _No,_ you bloody idiot. I mean _staring_ staring _."_

"Yeah, it's sort of a given part of the name." Harry rolls his eyes and unconsciously tries to move his hair to hide his scar. It did happen to catch his attention there did seem to be more eyes on him than usual. Even some of his own classmates were giving him funny looks. They weren't bad exactly and he took that as a good sign. His first thought was something else had come out in the Prophet he was yet to be informed about.

Then he remembered.

Then he wished he hadn't.

"Harry!" A voice breaks through the chaos. Harry whips around just in time to see a mass of bushy brown hair tunneling towards him.

She ran up to him at lightning speed and pulled Harry closer to her, wrapping her arms around him. Her embrace was warm and her welcoming arms were very protective when wrapped around Harry's frail body.

She pulled away after a long moment and gave him glare then could quite frankly freeze someone down to their underwear if they hadn't been subjected to it since they were eleven. "Merlin and Morgana- Crowley- fucking hell. Where have you _been_?! I've been worried sick! You could have been hurt! _Are you hurt?_ Dumbledore and the Order-"

"Bloody hell 'Mione, let him breathe!"

He looked over Hermione's shoulder where Ron was pushing both of their trolleys. He seemed to be just as excited and worried as Hermione because his face broke into a grin as soon as he saw Harry's face peaking out.

He gave Harry a quick one-over to make sure he was okay before giving his best friend a brief hug -- not nearly as strong or extravagant as Hermione's -- with a pat on the back. Out of the corner of his vision he saw Malfoy awkwardly stare at them before sinking away into the crowd.

"Come on mate, Remus is going to want to see you."

Harry's stomach does an unpleasant twist. He hadn't seen or heard from Remus since the incident at the Ministry last term. He hadn't even responded to his letter from the inn explaining everything. A darker part of him couldn't blame him- it was his fault his last living best friend had been murdered in cold blood.

_Had he just waited a little longer. Had he just listen to someone-_

Ron grabbed his bicep absentmindedly to steer him toward wherever they were meeting him which caused Harry to instinctively pull back roughly. If the other noticed he didn't say anything. They knew Harry was always a little jumpy at the start of every term and Harry always had to put it down as his cousin's cruel behavior. They had no idea what really went down in Privet Drive and Harry was hoping to keep it that way.

He looks back over his shoulder where he can just faintly see Draco boarding the train with an expression on his face Harry couldn't place.

"Whadda you looking at?"

"Nothing," Harry says. "No one."

Remus was standing not far from the entrance in a secluded area. He was leading against the wall looking down at his dirty black shoes twirling his wand in his fingers with worry evident on his face. He had a couple more scars than last time and his posture seemed to be hunched. The crowd parted around the three just as he lifted his head. As he was Harry his dull eyes lit up in surprise then in relief.

He rubbed his arm self-consciously, suddenly feeling out of place. He had almost managed to not think about his godfather this entire summer but now seeing his old professor standing in front of him was making it all come back. He gulped nervously and clenched the edge of the loose muggle jumper he was wearing.

"I-"

"Harry."

The guilt is ice in his guts. It could be a hundred degrees out and he'd still be frozen on the inside. Harry can't melt it with the way the man was looking at him. He can't even get a word out. It's as if his lungs were frozen and rapidly spreading it to the rest of him as well.

He's pulled into a bone crushing hug once again. The back of his eyes burned slightly in response and he squeezed them shut. It was kind of awkward considering the height difference and Harry's sore stomach but he didn't dare speak that.

"Are you alright?"

Harry didn't know how to answer that question. The answer was obviously _'No'_. He doesn't think there was ever a time in his life since Voldemort walked in that the answer to that was a definite yes. But that wasn't really what he was asking though, was it? It was just another form of greeting used when they wanted it to sound like they cared, maybe sometimes people did, but never actually wanted to stay long enough for an answer other than 'good'. Besides, he had just killed his best friend. He shouldn't be causing him more grief than he already had.

"Harry?"

"M' okay."

"Are you sure?"

Harry's throat clogged. He shook his head sadly into the older man's neck.

"I told Dumbledore we shouldn't have let you go back there. It was too soon- I should have known. I'm so sorry."

Harry wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault. Dumbledore always got his way no matter what and it was futile to go against him. He didn't want him to carry any guilt; he just didn't deserve it.

"Where have you been?" He asks after finally pulling back, ruffling Harry's already untamable hair. Hermione and Ron were standing a few away to give the two some space but were obviously listening in to find out what happened to their best friend. Harry bit his lip uncertain and looked down at his own hole-y shoes that he failed to mend yet.

He knew this was going to happen as soon as he got the Ministry's letter yesterday. He'd already come up with a cover story with Draco's insistence that morning. That didn't stop the frigid feeling in his stomach. Remus finding out about the death eaters was one thing (though he probably already guessed that part a little bit already), but the Dursely's was another. And if Dumbledore knew that was the initial reason he ran away Harry doesn't think he'd be able to handle the disappointment in his mentor's eyes.

"I was being stupid," Harry confessed which wasn't a total lie. He's the one who idiotically decided to talk back to his uncle that evening causing the entire sequence of events after that. "I wasn't thinking straight. With...with everything and I...." Harry took a deep breath. His fingers dug into his pocket where the sharp piece of glass was and wrapped his fingers around it to steady himself from breaking down in the middle of public. He was supposed to be a Gryffindor right? So why was this so hard? "I just missed him. I couldn't stand being there anymore. I was so irritated. Mad _all the time_. I couldn't... I had to..."

Remus pulls Harry into another hug. "It's alright, Harry. I miss him too."

Harry being 'sad' sounds so childish, like something flimsy, something one should be able to cast off with a happy reflection or the smile of a friend. But 'sad' is nothing of the sort. The ache from Sirius's death sits inside him in a seed of depression, just waiting for the right conditions to grow, to send out roots to choke the hope out of his heart. And right now it seemed to be flourishing under the heavy ache Remus's words left inside him.

"What happened?"

"I left. I went to Diagon Alley. He must have had spies or something cause a couple death eaters attacked-" he felt his grip tighten on his shoulder, "- but it was only a couple scratches. See? I'm perfectly fine."

Remus gives him a stern look. "And you didn't bother to tell anyone beforehand? You could have _died._ Maybe if you somebody else, but Harry _you can't do that_. You can't just leave everyone in the dark like that. I was worried sick."

"Yes, I know. What I did was bloody stupid. I know. I'm sorry, _I'm sorry_. I promise I won't do it again."

The man sighed. His eyes were heavy and his face had more signs of age than any man in his mid thirties should hold. "Contact me next time before you do something again please. My old heart can't take it."

"I sent you a letter though- right before we were attacked. You didn't get it?" Harry frowned. Harry knew random owls were being checked but Hedwig had always been able to avoid being caught before.

"No- wait, we?"

"The other wizards at the inn I mean." Harry lies quickly, hoping he doesn't pick up on the lie with his wolf instincts. Remus gave him a look that lasted a beat too long in his opinion before looking back over his shoulder where now crowds of last minute students were climbing aboard. The Hogwart Express horn went off twice telling others to hurry up.

"You're going to be late. Go to Dumbledore's Office after the feast. I'll be waiting there for you, okay?"

Harry gave a small nod. Remus stood up where he was crouching slightly and gave him a genuine smile. He messes up Harry's hair again.

"Have a good term, Harry. Set up a few pranks for me, will you?"

"Yeah. Yeah, okay."

~~~

The door to the empty compartment flew open giving Harry a third rate heart attack.

"Blimey! Knock would you?"

Draco rolls his eyes before entering fully and shutting the door behind him. His glamour from the platform had run off now and his hair was once back to being slicked down. Harry guessed he probably stole some hair gel from one of the other Slytherin's. Harry had surprisingly almost gotten used to it being loose and oddly found himself missing it.

"Aren't you supposed to be in the prefects carriage with Ron and Hermione?"

He flicked his wand causing the curtains to be pulled down. "Please. It's going to be the same thing as last year. 'Be nice to the eleven-year gremlins, don't go pushing them down stairs, show them to their common room, yadda yadda.'"

" _Push them down the stairs?"_

Draco shrugs. "You'd be surprised." He sits down on the seat right in front of Harry with all the dignity the heir of the Malfoy line is supposed too. Harry raises his eyebrow.

"You can get caught."

"I can get caught doing almost anything, Potter. It's the matter of being smart enough to avoid so."

Harry didn't know if that was an insult or not. He decided to just ignore it in general.

"What about your friends?"

"They won't even notice I'm gone."

"Oh..."

"What did the Weasel and m- Granger say?"

Harry bit his lip. The two had dragged him into the compartment they had saved and demanded answers as to what happened and why he hadn't answered any of their letters. He said the same thing as he did to Remus but they hardly believed him, poking at every detail under a microscope. Hermione had let out a gasp at the mention of the death eater attack and immediately started going on tangent about possible spies in Diagon Alley and how they could use that to the Order's advantage. Then they asked him about Sirius and he'd come up with a stupid lie saying he was tired just as the prefects whistle went off.

"Worried, that's all."

"Mother henning?"

"Sod off."

"Someone's grumpy."

" _Someone's_ has had people pestering them for the past hour and half straight." Harry glared at the blonde who now was laying himself across the entire seat like he owned it. " _Including_ a certain Slytherin who resembles a ferret."

Draco's face scrunched up only proving Harry's point. "Rude. I only came to check in on you."

"Yeah, sure." Harry mumbles before looking out the window moodily. Draco frowned.

"What's got your knickers in a twist?"

"Nothing."

"Somehow I doubt it."

"Come off it please. I'm tired."

"Fine." Draco huffs but still watchful of Harry's sudden change of behavior from this morning. "Take off your shirt."

Harry's head snaps towards him. "What?"

Draco covers a snort of laughter with his hand. "Merlin, your reaction is priceless every time."

"Stop asking that way. It's weird." Harry grumbles, his face burning with a faint pink over the bridge of his nose. Nevertheless, Harry pulls off his robes and unbuttons his shirt so he can see the inky mark on his stomach.

"When you get your mind out of the gutter then."

"It's not my fault. One would _obviously_ think-"

The door swings open.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so like I didn't *originally* decide to leave this on a cliffhanger then realized it would be hilarious if I did and I am not a human of restraint so here.


	21. Fire And The Flood

** CHAPTER TWENTY ONE  **

** [Fire And The Flood] **

** HARRY **

Settling back into Hogwarts was harder than Harry had initially thought. The last week before term felt as if it was an entire lifetime set in a different universe. Almost as if he was living two lives and now having to balance them out. That is if Draco would stop ignoring him other than when he was spelling the curse still. Even then he would do it as quickly as possible with little to no words. 

There was the Dursley’s too. He had felt like he was running on pure air for the first couple minutes leaving Dumbledor’s office. Unstoppable as if nothing could do him harm anymore if he had managed to go against his uncle. He cried tears of joy even. Of course, that hadn’t lasted long. Fifteen years of neglect and punishments easily caught up and left him having a panic attack in his dorm later that night. Ron had freaked out and Harry had to stop him from calling Mcgonagall thinking it had something to do with Voldemort. It hurt lying to his best friend but there was just something he just wouldn’t understand.

He stared at Draco from the other side of the Great Hall. Unsurprisingly he yet had found the right time to inform Draco of the news. The git was entirely too frustrating sometimes for his own good. He was perfectly fine on the train! Something had to have happened and that worried Harry enough to almost diminish his anger. 

“Malfoy’s gone lost his mind, you think?”

Harry’s eyes divert back to Ron sitting in front of him with a piece of toast halfway in his mouth. 

“What?”

“He hasn’t tried anything so far and it’s been a week. You think he’s up to something?” 

Hermione scoffed to the side of him. “Ron you’re sixteen. Grow up. He’s probably just stressed- We’re in our Newt level classes now and you  _ know _ the work is harder. Professor Slughorn is already giving us a test on the regeneration abilities of starfish on Monday and it’s only been four days!” 

“Yeah right,” Ron says, rolling his eyes. “He’s probably just busy trying to kiss You-Know-Who’s behind and doing what his daddy tells him to do.”

“Ronald!”

“Don’t try and deny it! You know just as well as I do as soon as he graduates he’ll be joining his father like the little suck-up he is. Why are you defending him anyways, ‘Mione? He called you a mudblood!”

Hermione huffs. “When we were  _ twelve _ . People can change. And besides, you can’t just go around accusing people of being death eaters!”

“We saw his dad at the ministry last year! When have you  _ ever _ known Malfoy to be different?”

Harry shoves a bite of sausage into his mouth trying not to intervene and say something he’ll regret. Draco  _ wasn’t _ a death eater. The image of him withering on the floor under his father flashed in his head and sent a shiver up his spine. He had openly defied his father and spat at his feet. That was...brave. It was a  _ conscious _ choice he had made despite knowing the repercussions. He cared too. And he loved. Grieved. His reaction to Bramble’s death had taught him that. Most of all though he was  _ human _ . Draco was different. So so  _ so _ different than anyone could ever have imagined him to be and it was frustrating, to say the least, to see them making him out like some faceless monster.

But he couldn’t do anything, could he? He had made a deal even if he was defending them to be inconspicuous. He sighed and tightened his grip on his fork. When did he become the world's leading expert on Draco Malfoy? 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the blonde whisper something to Zabini then stand up and head towards the exit. His face was drawn subtle enough most wouldn’t be able to guess what he was feeling. Harry was no exception; he'd just been looking for something and now he had found it. 

“I need to use the restroom real quick.” Harry suddenly blurts cutting his two bickering best friends off. “I’ll see you in herbology.” 

He couldn’t follow Draco outright without looking suspicious. Harry shoves the essay he’s been working on in his bag and gives the other a couple seconds headstart. He needed to know what had crawled up the Slytherin’s arse to cause him to ignore Harry. 

The corridor directly outside of the hall was empty besides a couple of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuffs fluttering about so it made it easy to catch up. Draco was taller than him though. His strides were painfully deliberate enough for Harry to know he didn’t want to talk. Harry didn’t care; one minute the boy was smiling and the next he was flashing cold smirks. That wasn’t fair. 

“Draco! Draco, wait.” He reaches out and grabs his boney wrist. Draco jerks back as if he’s been burned and turns around to glare at the Gryffindor. 

“What do you want, Potter?” The words leave his mouth with traces of venom despite the vacancy of such on his face. Harry falters, surprised. Draco’s real emotions only showed through his voice, so what had done to warrant such hatred? 

He looked worse than when he saw him last. There were dark circles under his eyes and his hair was more disheveled than usual despite the gel. His uniform was a mess as well. The tie was loosely hung off his unstraightened color and his robes, which had never been seen before on a Slytherin, were wrinkled. 

“Are you alright?”

“I don’t- what?”

“I asked if you’re alright.”

“...oh.” He says lamely like a deflated balloon. He could tell the other was expecting a fight.

“Are you?”

“It doesn’t concern you.”

“Uh,  _ I’m pretty sure it does.  _ I told you I didn’t want to stop talking to you once we went back to Hogwarts and instead you took the liberty of doing the opposite. You aren’t getting away that easy, prat. Why won’t you talk to me? Did something happen?”

Draco stares at him as if he couldn’t believe Harry was asking such a question. Harry stares back despite the ice starting to line his stomach again. The early morning light from the windows above caused his eyes to form a light dew, scattering nascent rays, illuminating everything but what he was actually thinking. It was nerve-racking. 

Draco breaks it to stare down the hallway behind Harry’s shoulder to make sure they were alone. “I’m fine. I’m just tired.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re ignoring me.”

“When am I supposed to talk to you?” Draco responds, narrowing his eyes. “You’re always with your damned Gryfindor friends. It’s hard enough trying to avoid them all when pulling you into random classrooms to fixed your stupid fucking  _ curse-” _

“You don’t even look me int the eye alone speak to me then.”

“Then go to the nurse.”

“ _ No!” _

_ “ _ Stop being selfish!” He nearly growls. “If not for me, for your friends. Fixing you is bloody exhausting. I’m the one who’s going to have the blood on my hands if you don’t come to your senses!”

Harry clenched his teeth then took a deep breath through his nose. He had asked so he had no right to get mad. A part of him knew Draco had a point; had it been the other way around he could be riddled with anxiety. Still, Draco didn’t seem to understand how much panic it would cause if it got out. He had caused so much chaos already. 

“Look, I’m sorry, but no one can know.  _ Please.  _ You don’t understand.”

Draco shakes his head and pokes a finger into Harry’s shoulder. “I think I do. It’s you who doesn’t. Do you even know what kind of situation you’re putting me in?”

“We’re both in unfortunate circumstances.”

“No, you’re not. You can fix everything easily, you're just being a coward.”

Harry grabs his wand from inside his robe causing the other to take a step back. 

“I don’t want to fight Malfoy... Just teach me the spells then. I’ll get someone else to do them. Just _ don’t _ tell Madam Pomfrey.”

Draco glares. “You know that's not going to work. You need to get cured. You can’t hide it forever. You’ll die.”

“I know and I won’t. I’ve been researching it… I’ll find something. I’m sure of it.”

The Slytherin didn’t look very convinced. “Fine. I’ll give you the spells only because they’re running me dry on my energy. But if you don’t go to the hospital wing by next week they’ll be given an anonymous tip.”

“That’s no fair!”

“That absolutely is fair. It’s a dark curse, we have no idea what it’s capable of.” He opens the top of the messenger style bag and brings out a worn grey book. “I’ve already dog-eared the pages you need. Don’t destroy it. It’s my only copy.”

Harry reaches out to grab it but Draco's robe sleeve slips down slightly. He almost drops the fragile book in shock. 

“Who the hell did that?” Harry asks but Draco was already shoving his hands in his pockets. 

His forearm was covered in dark red blisters, all roughly swollen to the size of a sickle. They looked excruciatingly painful and it made Harry’s stomach feel uneasy. 

“Slytherin’s don’t take kindly to traitors.” 

** DRACO **

“Erumpents don’t attack unless provoked, but the results are usually pretty bad when ya do. T’ere quite gentle creatures ‘onestly. The horn can pierce ‘yer skin and metal, and the horn contains a  [ deadly fluid ](https://harrypotter.fandom.com/wiki/Exploding_Fluid) that caused whatever was injected ‘ith it to ‘xplode. There were rare occasions when the injected object or being did not ‘xplode-”

Draco ignored his professor in exchange for trying to ward off in the sweltering heat from the sun. All the cooling charms he’d tried to cast all had been pitiful due to his exhaustion. Any hopes that this class would have been better due to the lack of practicality of it had been quickly diminished. He would do anything to just be in astronomy instead of at the moment. At least then he wouldn’t have to deal with Harry’s pestering stares.

He was a good couple meters away from the other Slytherin’s though he could still hear their conversation. Something about Longbottom and his fiasco in transfiguration yesterday morning. Despite his housemates’ recent rejection of him, they still refused to let themselves seem weak from the outside and decided that all hexes and glares were reserved for dungeons only. 

Draco could hardly find a break. Between researching the stupid curse, his increasing drain of magic from the healing spells, dealing with the Slytherin’s, his father’s lack of appearance, and his N.E.W.T classes he virtually had no time to himself. He wanted to kick Harry’s stupid face in. Half the time he couldn't get any of it done anyways worrying about him as well! Even after the confrontation in the hallway, he refused to seek help. They had no idea what that curse was! He could drop dead any second and it would all be Draco’s fault.

There's a sharp elbow jab into his side. “Draco, what do you think?”

Pansy was the only Slytherin, besides occasionally Blasie, who was still talking to him. That didn’t mean he wanted her though. They’d been friends since third year when Draco was still on his ego trip. It was obvious the only reason she was staying around now was that she thought all the rumors were just Draco planning something big. And she wanted to be the first person on board. That or she really was trying to comfort him, but even Abbot wasn’t that stupid. 

Draco rubbed his eyes and looked towards her. Her usual chin-length black hair was pulled back with an intricate silver headband and her anti-run makeup usually made her the golden apple of the boys around school. They had dated briefly in their fourth year, another thing done to please his parents, before she had confessed her interest laid somewhere else. That being a particular Rosalind Nettles that was in her fifth year. He was the only one who knew her secret. Draco had hoped the fact that she would be killed by the Dark Lord if he ever found out would have been enough to scare away from joining her parents but apparently, that was just another thing he was wrong about. The pureblood fantasies drilled into her were just too powerful. 

“What?”

“Hexing that know-it-all mudblood’s teeth back? Say, I don’t think her current ones fit her very well. If she wants her hair to resemble a chipmunk’s backside she might as well finish the look.”

“Pansy-”

“Besides, it’s been a while since any of those nasty Gryffindor's got a taste of their own medicine.”

Draco shook his head looking down at his near blank parchment for taking notes. There was no point fighting with someone who wasn’t going to listen. His father was a prime example of that. He was starting to wish Blasie had taken magical creatures with him instead of arithmancy. He’d take the brooding silence over her gossip any day.

“They haven’t done anything.”

“It’s not about that. It’s always about being one step ahead.”

He internally groaned and laid his head on his knees. There was no escape. 

“What is  _ with _ you Draco? You haven’t been the same since term started.” She looks around nervously before continuing. “Is it about the Dark Lord? Did your parents tell you something?”

The quill in his hand snaps. 

The first thing he notices is the pain. On instinct, he dropped the splintered ends and reached out to grab his wrist with his other hand only to forget about the hexed blisters and yelps again.

He looks down at it. It looked just bad as it hurt. The bottom half of the shaft was still lodged in between his thumb and index finger. He couldn’t see how deep it was with the mix of ink and blood trailing down from it. 

_ “Fuck,”  _ He whispers under his breath. Everyone in the class was looking at him now with stupid wide eyes. His naturally sought out Harry’s in the crowd who looked ready to jump out his chair.

“‘Alfoy, off to the hospital wing! Parkinson go with him. Both of yer’ are ‘xcused.” Professor Hagrid announces, no doubt remembering the accident from two years ago. He stands protectively in front of the magical creature.

“I don’t need anyone to go with me. I can go alone. I’m not four.” Draco hisses. Nonetheless, he starts shoving his paper and remains of the never-inking-ink quill inside his bag with his free hands. Pansy tries to help but he sends her a glare telling her to back off.

Draco’s shirt sleeve was starting to get stained in several places as he started back up to the castle. He tries to cast a  _ scourgify  _ but the imaginary bristles only further deepen the wound.

_ Great _ , he thinks.  _ My last clean dress shirt. _


	22. Turning Out

** CHAPTER TWENTY **

** [Turning Out] **

** HARRY **

“Can I get ten chocolate frogs, a bulk of sugar quills, a couple licorice wands, five packs of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, and a stack of acid pops? Oh, and as Caramel Cobwebs as you can shove in the bag.”

“Oh, dear. You sure have a sweet tooth, don’t you?”

Draco nodded. “That I do, ma’am.”

“That’ll be fifteen galleons and seven sickles.”

Draco smiled warmly at the old woman behind the Honeydukes trolley. He reached inside his pocket where a small bag filled with coins and began counting them out once by one. 

Harry was as red as a Bubotuber and radiated heat like a hot pan. You could have cooked a three-course meal on his face. No-one, not even the innocent trolley lady, could have missed it. He wanted the earth to open up and swallow him whole. Harry never wanted to slap Draco so bad. He was getting a kick out of this, watching Harry squirm in embarrassment. He was purposely trying to take as long as he could and he just knew it.

Finally, the door shut with a small thud, and Draco turned around to Harry with a smirk, sweets pilled in his arms. 

“Are you out of your  _ mind _ ?” Harry fumed. His hand went instinctively for his wand in his robes only for him to remember they were still on the floor. He reached for them quickly and Malfoy’s cold fingers grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him back down into the seat.

“Don’t know what you’re referring to exactly.”

“You’re the one who suggested the idea of keeping everything a secret! And someone just saw me without a shirt on with  _ you _ of all people. And people are going to  _ talk _ -”

“Harry.”

“Everyone is going to think we’re bloody poofters.  _ Shite _ . Ron and Hermione are going too-”

“ _ Harry. _ ”

“I thought you were just scared as I was! Apparently fucking not. And you’re not even worried! You probably planned it all out, didn’t you! I should have guessed. Can’t I just have  _ one year _ -”

Suddenly Harry goes silent. He reaches up to his throat realizing his voice had been stolen away. Malfoy was staring at him intelligently with his hand raised.

“Silencio. A Slytherin’s best friend.”

Harry glares at him and makes a gesture suggesting a very violent action if he didn’t give it back within the next half-second. 

“You’ll get it back once you give me a chance to speak. Crowley, you Gryffindors really  _ don’t  _ know how to shut your mouth.”

Harry slapped him.

“Oi! What the fuck?”

Harry smirked and crossed his arms victoriously. 

“Fine. So be it. See if I share any of my sweets with you, prick.” Draco says, cradling his redding cheek. “I was  _ going _ to say is Madam Manson isn’t a snitch. She’s seen way worse on the Slytherin cart in fifth year.”

Harry raised an eyebrow.

“That’s for me to know and you never to find out. Also, if your mind wasn’t in the gutters, you’ll be likely to find nothing here that incriminates either of us. At the most, it looked as if you were changing into your robes.”

Harry looked down. He was still mad but he begrudgingly had to accept the fact Draco was actually right in this scenario.  _ Still a sadist git _ , he thinks selfishly. 

Draco flicks his wand and Harry’s voice comes back to him.

“You owe me at least three sugar quills for that.”

“You slapped me in the face!”

“That's because you silenced me!”

“Then you should've let me speak before going on a rant about me luring you into a trap.”

Harry huffs. “Fine. But you didn’t have to embarrass me like that.”

“S’pose not, but where's the fun in that?”

Harry throws Hermione’s hairbrush at him.

“Prat.”

“Scarhead.”

Draco sits back down on the seat in front of Harry. “If you’re done throwing a hissy fit I’ll like to get on with what I was trying to do before Granger and Weasel come back and we’re really in trouble.”

“Fine,” Harry groans. He honestly was getting anxious about that. Last year they were only there for about thirty minutes. Surely they’ll be back any minute now? 

Sighing, Harry bends over to dig in the bag filled with acid-pops and Draco smacks his hand away. “Back off before I take your voice away for good. Those have to last me until the first Hogsmede trip.”

“That’s only a month and a half!””

“You’re point?” 

“Jeez, you’re acting like a mother Hippogriff protecting her young or something.”

“You have to with people like you trying to steal them at every chance they get.” Draco picks up the bag off the floor and shoves in between the sheet cushions behind him. Harry groans something and justice and slimy gits causing the blonde to snort. 

Draco reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small potion vial. It was a dark red with chunks of who knows what inside. “I dug this out of Blasie’s trunk when he wasn’t looking. Drink it before he notices it’s gone.”

He throws it and Harry catches it with years of seeker training. “Trying to outright poison me now? A new low, really. Even for you.”

“If I wanted you dead you’ll be on the floor already.”

“Maybe you should give Voldemort some hints then. He could use the help.”

Draco pinches the bridge of his nose as a suppressed, stupid grin takes over his face. He was obviously trying not to because of the darker context but failing miserably. “You shouldn’t joke about that. I can take points now, you know.”

Harry hums. “Suppose not, where's the fun in that?”

“Salazar’s name you’re annoying.” He says though it doesn’t take much damage with the tiniest hint of a laugh pulling at the corner of his mouth. “It builds up your immune system from unexpected curses or hexes. Might help with whatever if with your stomach until you decide to man up and go to the hospital wing.”

“You know fair well I can’t do that,” Harry mutters pointedly. Madam Pomfrey would go off her rockers if he found out. She’ll tell Dumbledore, who’ll tell Lupin, who’ll tell his  _ friends _ \- It’ll be a disaster. Harry was failing most of their expectations of him, especially with last year's catastrophe, but to see their disappointed faces in him would make it so much clearer. Harry supposed the only reason why Draco knowing was different was because he never really had high expectations of him in the first place and vise versa. But that was changing rapidly as time grew on and he was gaining more and more respect for the other, so could he even say that was what it was truly? 

“So you’re expecting me to bend to your every whim and spell you with magic exhausting magic every couple hours? As much as I’m flattered in your idolization in me, not even a professional healer could do such. All I’m doing is stopping the spread before it gets worse.”

“Fine then, teach me the spells and I’ll do them myself. I’ll look into the school library, do something, I don’t know. There has to be something I can do without dragging someone else in.”

“Fat chance,” Draco snorts. “You’re playing with fire, you know. How do you know it won’t kill you before then?”

“Potter Luck?”

“I take it back. I call dibs on killing you first.” Harry grins at him and Draco rolls his eyes. 

Draco takes out his wand and touches the very tip on Harry’s abdomen. Weeks ago the action would have caused a duel ending with both of them ending up in the hospital wing. Now Harry found himself closing his eyes and waiting for the icy sensation to flow over him. 

_ “Liberentus Strixeseo!” _

The chill is like a drip of freezing water running off his stomach, jangling his nerves, setting his teeth on edge and marching it’s way from his stomach to his arms and legs. 

“Did it work?”

“Yea. It feels like you just froze all my insides though.”

“Aside effect. The feeling differs on the caster. Another reason you couldn’t learn the spell yourself. It requires more than one magical core.”

Harry grumbles something under his breath. The potion from earlier was starting to kick in and he found himself feeling slightly taxed out. Perhaps he would be able to find more of it or owl order some from Hogsmede.

A knock at the door startles the both of them.

“Mate? Are you changing?”

Shit.  _ Fuck. _

It was Ron. His eyes captured Draco’s own and he seemed just as panicked as he was. He hadn’t accounted for Ron’s low attention span and need to annoy Hermione. A part of him almost wanted to laugh in payback.

“Harry?”

“Uh- yeah Ron! Hold on!”

Harry jumped up and scanned the compartment hopelessly for any type of escape route to shove Draco through. When his eyes landed on his trunk above them and he could practically the lightbulb form above his head.

Draco seemed to know exactly what he was planning and shook his head. “Hell no.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“You don’t have too. Can see it in your eyes.”

“Have another option? No? Then shut your bloody mouth and help get my trunk down.”

Harry frantically started to button up his uniform and slip on his robes that he was thankful he already had on. By the time he slipped on his robes, Draco had already unlocked his trunk using Harry’s wand on the seat. 

“Grab the cloak. I’ll push you on the overhang.”

“Are you mad? I’ll fall!”

“Have a stronger grip then.”

The silvery material was right at the top. Harry grabbed it and threw it at him. Draco was taller than he was so it left part of his shoes visible for Harry to hoist up the same way they had broken into the Dursley’s what felt like ages ago. 

“Could you be any gentler?” Draco whispered yelled. “There’s no space up here so stop shoving me- ow!”

“Do you want to be caught or not?”

“And risk not overhearing you and Weasley’s precious conversation. Not a chance!”

Harry gave one rough push out of pettiness and stepped back to see if any part of the blonde was visible. It looked like an empty self. He prayed to Merlin it stayed that way.

“Come in!” 

Harry’s best friend barged in barely waiting for Harry to finish speaking. His face lit up at the large bag on the seat.“Sweet! You got some Honeydukes!” He says, not wasting a moment to dig in and bring out a chocolate frog 

~~~

“Cockroach Clusters, Sherbert Lemons...Licorice Snaps!”

The gargoyle didn’t budge. 

“Really?” Harry sighed. How did Dumbledore ever expect someone to meet him if he didn't know the password beforehand? He didn’t even  _ want  _ to see him even if it was childish. What he told Draco was right, Dumbledore was the only way he was going to have the slightest chance of filling the prophecy, but he had planted a seed of doubt in his head that maybe that wasn’t so true after all. Besides, the headmaster had a habit of finding out things Harry didn’t want him to know. He looked up to him and didn’t want to be seen as a disappointment in those eyes yet he couldn’t stop it if he didn’t stop poking his nose where it shouldn’t be. He also would want to send him back to the Dursleys next year where he'll no doubt be killed. He had every right to be terrified of being back in his office. He stomped his floor on the ground in frustration.

“Harry, my boy. Glad to see you unharmed.”

Harry whipped around to see the professor walking down the empty corridor scoring bright green robes. The feast had just ended he supposed. He had left early due to his stomach still in the process of stretching itself back to size after the summer. He had eaten more than he should have under Hermione’s watchful eye and ended up being sick.

“Sir.”

“Come, Harry. In my office please.” Dumbledore turned to the statue blocking the entrance. “Crunchie.”

Harry decided to ignore the fact that he used a muggle candybar as a password and followed him up the steps. The last time he’d been in the room he’d been told of his destiny that was sealed with the lightning scar on his forehead. The feeling still brought unease to his already aching stomach. 

“How are you?”

“Fine, professor.” 

“Lemon Drop?”

“Er- No thank you.” Harry wanted him to advance and get straight to the point. The older he got the more annoying it became.  _ Wasn’t Remus also supposed to be here?  _

“You already know why I brought you here.”

Harry grit his teeth as the man sat behind the desk that separated the two of them. “Yes.”

“The blood wards on the 25th of August broke,” Dumbledore explains, taking Harry by surprise. He knew he ran away but  _ breaking the wards? _ He didn’t even know it was possible. Dread starts to fill him. The entire memory of that night was blurry to him and Draco had refused to elaborate on what happened. Did he somehow kill his aunt with his magic? The idea seemed ridiculous but the more he thought about it-

“Magic is instinctual and very possessive of the wizard it lives inside. It’s a living thing seeking to protect itself. Therefore it protects the wizard from harm. I’m sure you’ve already figured that much out for yourself. It’s why we heal faster from ordinary humans.” Dumbledore elaborates as he unwraps a candy from the bowl on his desk. Harry nods for him to continue. “So, naturally, magic refuses to hurt itself. Same reason you cannot cast an unforgivable without the real intent to do so or you cannot turn your own wand against yourself.”

“Sir, why are you telling me this exactly?”

“I’m getting there. Now, blood magic is vastly different from normal wand casting and highly advanced. The night at Godric’s Hollow your mother did not cast any wards herself and instead, her magic made it’s last imprint on you which fulfilled an ancient ritual.”

“Okay…”

“Your mother's magic was in charge of the wards holding up Privet Drive. For the wards to snap her magic had come across the conflict of the wards doing more harm than good. It refused to use itself to cause damage to you, and ultimately, resulting in the collapse.”

Harry stares at the man in front of him for a second before it sets in. Sudden years of weight on his shoulders crumble into dust underneath his feet. He almost cries in relief.

“So you mean…”

“Yes, your mother saved you once again.” 


	23. Black Flies

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO**

**[Black Flies]**

**DRACO**

For the first time in the past couple of days, Draco is at peace. There's no buzzing where there usually would be stress eating him alive. No one was right next to him glorifying murder or spitting insults right into his ear. Everything had just turned off for a little bit and it was nice.

He was sitting on top of his tower, an unusual addition to the architecture of Hogwarts. He had discovered it by accident in his second year when trying a way to escape his goons to take a breather. Draco genuinely had no idea how the spot wasn't already taken by dozens of students. It was well hidden (you had to pull a brick in the wall on the third floor behind the tapestry of Sir Elwin) but not enough that it would escape the notice of centuries of Hogwarts students. The magic had to be insanely complex because the tower easily had to be one of the tallest in all of the grounds but was invisible if trying to find it from the outside. It was small though; roughly only four meters in diameter all around and took countless flights of stairs to get all the way to the top. It was peaked with large white granite pillars, each inscribed with elegant runes, that held up a domed glass roof. Draco had since then made the very peak of it practically his second room at Hogwarts. There were boobytraps, hexes, and wards he set every year so if anyone else suddenly got the wrong idea they would whimper away with their tails between their legs. _Literally._

Draco guessed that was sort of selfish but you snooze you lose, right? Besides, most of his prized possessions were up here as he couldn't trust the other Slytherin's availability to them. There were dark green comforters and pillows scattered over the floor and the posh divans from where he's dragged them up from the dorm over the years and a couple of candy wrappers when he's forgotten to take them back down. There was an entire bookshelf dedicated to muggle literature he was steadily making his way through and hoped to finish before he left Hogwarts, or in his case, killed for treason against the Dark Lord. Or his father.

All of his musical instruments had been dragged up as well. There was a piano in the corner covered in sheet music followed by an elegant black and gold violin sitting propped up on its leg. The bow for it was in desperate need to be rehaired. He had refused to even touch it since his fourth year and was going through his identity crisis. He never even wanted to learn it; his father had forced him into lessons when he was six. He'd had a tantrum for hours because of it. The piano lessons were different because although it _was_ a tradition for Blacks to learn, his mother had given him the choice. It was the first time he'd ever been given control over his life. The most important thing out of everything in the room though was the dingy, oak muggle guitar. One of his most prized possessions. He'd traded a muggle street artist his entire pouch of galleons for it when he was fourteen and on vacation. He picked it up knowing his parents would be furious if they found out in a rebellious funk like the way a normal teenager would smoke or drink.

Draco sighed and looked out the window where the Gryfindor team was soaring above the pitch. Harry was probably one of them. He had heard Theo go on a rant about 'the bloody scarface' getting promoted to Gryffindor team captain. Draco's team had unanimously agreed to kick him from the position of seeker this year. He could find himself caring less honestly. He had too much stuff to worry about anyway.

He looked down on the book on his lap. The cover read _'Terminal Curses and Their Effect'._ There wasn't an index, causing Draco to read the entire book. So far there had only been mention of visible effects. Random vomiting and dizzy spells were common side effects which made filtering everything else out hard. He had to have gone through at least a third of the library already. What he needed was something from the restricted section, yet without a note, he had no other way of getting past the security enhancements. There would be no way his teachers would ever even consider it either with a tainted last name such as Malfoy.

Draco glanced back at the guitar. He hadn't touched it since he'd come back to school. There was an uncertain, looming darkness around it that warded him away. It was too tangled up in his inner turmoil now. It was a perfect representation of the two wars inside his head. One that his father's opinion shouldn't matter after everything he's done and was the spark of rebellion that led him to learn in the first place. The darker part of him doubted his defiance, that his father really was looking out for the best of him and it was his fault he couldn't be the son that he wanted. Was it crazy to believe in both things equally at once?

Somehow his father had somehow dragged one of his favorite things down into the pits with him and he didn't even know it existed. Draco could taste the irony bubbling at his lips in a laugh.

Draco looked down at the curse swirling on his forearm and grimaced in disgust. His father was a horrible person. His opinions shouldn't matter. But then again, why did Draco's own? He was a horrible person as well and making the exception for himself would only prove his point further.

Maybe... just _maybe_ he might be wrong about that though. Draco knew what he was doing was wrong. He didn't want to watch people be tortured in front of him, or murder muggles, or serve as the Dark Lord's right-hand man. His father did and lost his sanity a long time ago because of it. Harry's words come swimming back to him.

_"What matters is the part we choose to act on. That's who we really are."_

Draco knew he was a bad person and _chose_ to make sure he was punished because of it. That's where he and his father separated. He would do anything to avoid getting what he deserved like the coward he was, or because he simply thought he did not deserve it (which made his stomach turn). It was kind of a fucked up way to look at it, but the logicality of it was clearer than anything else lately.

His knowing he deserved it was the only barrier between the two and it was thin. He didn't know if that scared or relieved him.

Out of the window, the Gryffindor team was finally heading back inside and Draco toyed with his lip. With a quick flick of his wand, he was able to realize it was nearing six; nearly when he was supposed to meet up with the brunet and fix his stomach. The guilt he had been feeling all day towards the argument took root.

Harry deserved, and needed, to be helped and the responsibility just so happened to land on him. It wasn't Harry's fault he got hit, nor was it that the spells took so much energy and magic out of the caster. He had unknowingly helped him out of his cult of a home only to repay him by abandoning when he needed it most.

Draco lets out a frustrated groan and rubs his eyes until stars swarm his vision. He couldn't take it anymore. Everything inside his head was too much and too little.

Draco throws the book he was reading back into his school bag, only faintly cringing at the sound of parchment crumbling underneath it. It was a long shot but perhaps Harry was feeling the same way. He could only hope that he would show up at the broom cupboard they had reserved.

Draco pulled up the door from the ground and headed down the twisted stairs that were in a perfect spiral like a child's slinky toy pulled from each end. They went straight to the bottom of the tower, nearly ten flights of stairs standing alone without any other rooms. He mumbled something unintelligible under his breath before hiking the bad up his shoulder and continuing down.

Exiting the tower was usually an easy matter. The third floor was mainly saved for storage, leaving for a barren corridor to sneak in-and-out of. So when turning the corner to be met with a large figure blocking his way, he was caught off guard and the usual defense of sneering slipped away. A meaty hand grabs his upper forearm and pulls.

"Hiding, 'Alfoy?"

Draco looks up at the large builds of Vincent and Gregory. They both had the stupid grins on they still hadn't grown out of that showed they were up to something. An ugly sneer that disfigured their already disfigured faces and a taunting raise of eyebrows that showed more confidence in their magic than near-squibs should. He almost made a smartass remark about it before remembering that harming him with magic probably wasn't the intent.

Draco rips his arm free and quickly, but casually, reaches for the wand in his robes. He learned that trick from his father disgustingly. Never let them know your actual emotions or intent was. Intimidate them, but don't let them know you're doing that purposely. If there was one thing he could do it was that. Hiding his fear came naturally to him.

"From you?"

"Yeah," Vincent responds dumbly, not sensing the sarcasm. "Who else?"

Gregory, the smarter of the two, elbows his partner in the ribs. He shoots the wand in Draco's hand a glare before looking up and into Draco's teasing eyes.

Suddenly blinding pain exploded from his face as he was expelled back towards the ground. His head hit the ground with a powerful bang, sending an extra wave of pain from the opposite direction. Pain sears through his head better than a branding iron. Without meaning to his body curls into something fetal, something primeval, while the pain resonates.

His vision is dazed. A shaky hand reached upwards where red crimson was leaking from both his nostrils. He had no doubt the back of his head was receiving the same treatment.

_"Levicorpus!"_

Draco's entire body was suddenly pulled up into the air by imaginary strings. They dangled him upside in the air like he was a broken toy puppet. He felt his entire face went red entirely for different reasons than the blood rushing to his head.

The button off his robe came undone and slipped off his arms onto the floor. Draco at that moment was never more glad he had learned to luck his shirts in or else his embarrassment would be even worse.

"Let me down you dimwitted twit!"

"Aw, who are you gonna go to Malfoy! Daddy? You gonna go tell your daddy on us? You can't, can you? He's in a little bit of a problem now, isn't he?"

Draco shot him a murderous glare as his throat began to close in panic. Did they _know?_ How could his father's treatment have gotten out? Their fathers worked along with his but- _this was insane-_ he couldn't have told. That was crazy. Even Lucius wasn't that crazy-

"Wittle problem with the Ministry, I heard. Was such a pathetic follower the Dark Lord left him to rot. You the same, poofter? Has he got enough of you yet as well? Father told me you ran away before you could give you your first mission." Crabbe laughs haughtily like he's done something to be proud of, like it's his jinx he was stuck under.

"Yeah?" Draco taunts breathlessly. He wasn't going to give in just yet; pride was one of the most valuable assets a Slytherin could own. "And I heard you couldn't wipe your own arse until you were eleven Crabbe if we're going off rumors. Something tells me you wouldn't enjoy that one going around again."

His face went red. Draco couldn't help compare him to the fresh newts they used in Potions.

Vincent took his chance to shake his wand violently and tossing Draco around like a game of hacky sack, a few times which made Draco exceedingly close to banging his head back on the floor. He could have guessed they were trying to knock him out.

"I bet he's lying about having the mark!"

"Oh, why the sudden change in heart? I thought we were just having fun."

A punch to the gut silences him.

"Check his arm! I bet he's lying! He doesn't even have the guts."

Crabbe goes for his shirt sleeve and Draco panics. He begins thrashes around wildly, like a toddler having a tantrum. Sporadic attacks; his last option. They _couldn't_ see it though, even if his reaction was a dead giveaway to their answer. The mark was the worst part of him scribbled out on his arm for everyone to see.

"Get off him you toesuckers!" A voice suddenly yells out. _"_ _Everte Statum!"_

Crabbe and Goyle soar backward with a comical look of surprise written on their faces. Both of them hit the floor with large thunks and Draco would have said something smartass about Karma being a bitch if it wasn't for the fact he fell down in a pathetic clump himself. He grabbed at his arm quickly making sure they were before grabbing for his robes.

Draco doesn't think he's ever been happier to see that bob cut of black hair. Pansy's running down the hall fuming like hell itself. Her wand ks pointed directly at the two idiots on the floor and Draco had no doubt she was probably constraining herself from doing something she'll regret.

The boys start scrambling up to grab their wands and run away. Draco thought that was at least one thing they had right. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of the girl's vicious jinxes.

"Oh, you're not getting away that easy! _Tarantallegra! Redactum Skullus!"_

Draco wished he had a camera to take a picture of the glorious moment. Both of their heads shrunk to the size of bludgers as their feet began to tap dance to an inaudible song. Their faces quickly became a dark, heavy red and they swung their fist around dramatically.

"Let- let us go!"

"Hm, let me think. _No_." She smirks. "I've been itching to do this since first year. Unfortunately, I think Draco here reserves that right."

She turned her back to them and faced Draco. He was still sitting there wide-eyed with amusement watching the two harassers dance pathetically. She bent down where her face was only centimeters away from his own. Draco's wand is wiggled in front of his face with a malicious, cunning smirk against her cherry red lips.

"How about we give them some payback?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So originally I had much more planned for this chapter my bad. I decided to just split it in half! That means hopefully the next chapter will come out pretty soon. Also, thoughts on Pansy so far?
> 
> Words: 2554
> 
> Published: 6/3/20


	24. Atlantis

** CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE **

** [Atlantis] **

** HARRY **

_ He probably isn’t coming to come, _ Harry thinks to himself sitting alone in the dusty storage closet. It wasn’t as if he shouldn’t have expected that though. He’d looked like shit that afternoon and Harry couldn’t ignore that it was all his fault. He’d been a conceited little shit he now realized. It only took half an hour of Hermione’s yelling when he finally told her about it did it click. She’d threatened to levitate him to the hospital wing herself, but he promised her if he didn’t find the cure in the next couple weeks he'll go willingly. She wasn’t happy about it though. She immediately ran off to the library to research it while at Quidditch practice (something his interests were rapidly being replaced with a blonde-haired Slytherin). 

Harry looked down at the book on his lap again. It was the one Draco gave him from the hallway. At first, he was only interested in the curses needed for his stomach, but as he flicked through the pages he would see tiny notes and illustrations scribbled in the margins in between the lines in Draco’s posh handwriting. Harry found himself smiling reading the sarcastic comments like,  _ ‘don’t move your wand counter-clockwise unless you fancy donkey ears’.  _ Some of the doodles were charmed to move as well. There was a very elaborate one of Harry himself getting hit in the head with a quaffle that made him wheeze. It was oddly sort of endearing actually. 

He noticed lots of the lines about healing charms were circled or underlined multiple times. He wanted to ask him about it when he sees him. He thinks back to when Malfoy had healed him at the inn and how he had somehow known way more about the subject than they ever covered in defense. Was he planning on being a healer? It definitely wasn’t he ever imagined the Malfoy heir doing, but then again…

The door opens just then making him jump. He almost mistakes the slumped posture with the hood as Filch.

“Draco?”

The figure looks up and shakes the head covering off. Harry leaps up, shocked. 

“Who the fuck-”

Draco sighs, “Vincent and Gregory.” His nose was broken, covered in a mix of dry and fresh blood. A couple of drops had seeped into his white uniform shirt making it look like one of those cheaply made horror movies Dudley used to watch. There was a darkening bruise on his temple as well that led up into his hairline. The sight of it made Harry’s blood boil similar in the way at the inn.

“Tweedledum and Tweedledee?”

“What?”

“Nevermind, It’s a muggle thing.”

“I know who they are, dipshit. I've just never thought of it that way. Crowley- they are, aren’t they?” He tilts his head slightly and smirks mischievously as he holds a bloody tissue to his nose. The lighting catches it and seems to illuminate the entire room because Harry doesn’t seem to be able to look away. 

“I didn’t know you’ll be here,” Draco says, eyeing Harry carefully. 

“I didn’t think you’ll come as well, “ Harry admits. “I shouldn’t have asked that of you, especially now that I’ve read what the spells do to the spellcaster and...yeah. I told Hermione about it and she’s helping me now, so you don't have to worry anymore.”

Harry scratches the back of his neck as he waits for Draco’s reaction. He seems stumped for a minute before letting out a small ‘oh’.

“Not that I don’t want to hang out with you anymore!” He quickly interjects. “I still do, I just don’t want you to deteriorate yourself! That's not really fair on you with everything else you must be worrying about and-” 

“No no _ no _ . Shut up. That's not what I’m mad about, idiot.”

“Then what  _ are _ you worried about?”

Draco throws his hands in the air exasperated. “What else?! You! I thought I made that abundantly clear! Why are you so  _ dense? _ ”

Harry's mouth shapes a small ‘o’. Was that really it? Draco certainly made it hard to tell with his whining about Harry’s blood on his hands. Then it clicks.  _ His blood on Draco’s hands.  _ The sneaky bastard double-edged all his words! That was unfair!

“Is it really that hard to believe?” Draco asks, a bit shaken. He's staring at Harry as if he can read him like a book. A shiver runs up his spine and he holds his arms around himself to protect himself. 

“Maybe,” Harry responds without thinking. Not that it was Draco’s fault though. It was something so deeply engraved into him from years with the Dursleys plus nearly all his parent figures dropping like flies. Logically he knew he had his friends and the Weasleys who had more than proved to him they cared but it wasn’t something that could be rubbed over in a couple of years. 

“Well, I do. I don’t want you to die.” Draco huffs. He kicks over a nearby bin before sitting on it to face Harry. “And you were right as well. You had your reasons and I ignored them. I shouldn’t have called you a coward over something you couldn’t help. Salazar, you’re making me a Gryffindor, talking about this crap. Disgusting.”

Harry sticks out his tongue then puts on a horrible draw of an aristocratic accent. “Oh no, I have to face my feelings and be a decent person? Whatever shall I do.” He fakingly faints onto the wall behind him with an arm over his brow.

Draco snorts. “You sound like my mum.” 

“Take a few tricks out of her books then?”

“Oh sod off.” He smiles before looking down at Harry’s abdomen. “So do you need me to spell it or…?”

“Oh, no. Hermione did it. She wanted to make sure she was doing it right.”

“Of course. What about what you tell her about what you’ve been doing until now?”

“Potions. The one you gave me on the train.”

“And she bought it?”

“I think so. She looked at me weird but didn’t say anything.” 

Draco nodded. Harry knew Draco already had a fourth the school on him, having Ron and Hermione on his tail might as well be the end of him.

“Do you need me to help you fix that?” Harry gestures towards his nose. “My healing spells are kind of shotty though.” 

Draco waves him off. “It’s fine. I can do it myself easily. Can I borrow your mirror?”

Harry freezes. “My what?”

“Your mirror. The broken one you’re always fiddling with? I’m pretty sure there are charms to help keep your hair down if you're always that worried about it.” Draco laughs. 

“No.” Harry forces a little harsher than he intended. Draco had cut a little too close to Harry’s weak spot. 

Draco is taken back for a second at the sudden change of mood. He looks like he's about to say something about it for a second before quickly changing his mind. Harry wished for the thousandth time to know what the other was thinking. 

The blonde shrugs carelessly trying to diffuse the tension. “You think Filch will miss this bucket?” 

He kicks it lightly and a cloud of dust fills the air, making the two break out in coughing fits.

“I think you’ll be good,” Harry wheezes.

Draco transfigures the mirror and winces when he finally sees the damage done. 

“My hair is a mess.” He runs his finger through it in a desperate attempt to tame it. “Thank Merlin I wore a hood. I don’t think I would have survived someone seeing me like this.” 

“ _ That's _ what you’re worried about?”

“Of course you don’t understand. Your hair is always a mess. I have to keep some of my sanity and pride.”

Harry scoffs. “I think a broken nose is more harmful to your ‘pride’. And your hair is fine. It looks better this way anyways. When you gel it back it makes you look like an old man.”

“It does not!” 

“Yeah. Sure.”

Draco rolls his eyes but adjusts the mirror so he can get a better view of his temple and nose. “ _ Episkey!”  _ The sound of the bones snapping back makes both of them wince. He does a few cleaning spells all well to make sure all the blood was gone.

“I'm gonna kill them,” Harry warns and Draco pulls up his shirt revealing a larger mark to heal it.

“Please, they already got exactly what the deserved.” He looks back with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’re too Gryffindor for that anyways. You wouldn’t even be able to leave the castle before they found the bodies.”

Harry hums. “That's not what the sorting hat said.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Draco frowns.

Oh, this was too good. Harry had to stop himself from laughing.

“The hat wanted to place me in Slytherin at first.”

“Shove off.”

“I’m serious! I saw your obnoxious posh face and accent and begged it not to group me with you.” Harry grins at Draco’s shell shocked face. 

“So, let me get this right. You formed your opinion of an entire house based on the actions of one person who was mean to you?”

“I mean...Kind of. You aren’t the most inviting.”

“Unbelievable.” Dracos scoffs, crossing his arms. “There's no way Hogwarts' Golden Boy was going to be a Slytherin.”

“Fine then, don’t believe me then. In second year when everyone thought I was the heir of Slytherin it certainly didn’t seem that hard to believe.”

Draco huffs then notices a grey book sitting on the floor near where Harry was sitting when he came in. Harry follows his gaze and deflates. 

“Oh. You can have it back if you want. Hermione already practically copied the entire chapter.”

“No, you can keep it. I have an extra one. It's an old copy anyways.” Draco waves it off. Harry lets out an internal sigh of relief. He definitely didn’t want to part with it just yet. Not when he still had an entire chapter of Draco criticizing the author's use of semicolons and stupid doodles.

Harry suddenly catches a glimpse of the time on his watch. “Shit,” he curses. “I’m late. I promised Dumbledore I’ll meet with him at seven.”

Draco is about to open his mouth when Harry cuts him off. “Yeah yeah, I know. You hate him. That doesn’t replace the fact I need him.”

He mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like ‘ _ Dumbledick’  _ and Harry sighs. 

Harry hated leaving so soon after they had just made up. The whole thing made him realize how little they actually knew of each other. He hadn’t even told him yet about finally being free of the Durselys. 

He shoves the book in his bag about the head out the door when he glances back at him. 

“Tonight- meet me at the lake? Secretly obviously.”

Draco cocks his head. “Is that a date?”

Harry sputters. “ _ No.  _ It is  _ not.  _ Nevermind, forget it.”

“I was a  _ joke _ , Harry. Ever heard of one?” Draco rolls his eyes sighing... 

“ _ Yeah _ , I have. Does...eleven seem okay?”

“Eleven? That's past curfew. How do you expect me to get out of the castle?”

Harry sticks his tongue out. “Gross, I always knew you were one of those prefects. Have you  _ never _ snuck out before?” 

“I have,” Draco says, crossing his arms and raising his chin slightly.

“You haven’t! You know what- You just get out of your common room and I’ll do the rest since you’re so much of a chicken.”

“I am not- Wait a fat second, how do you know where the Slytherin common is?”

Harry winks and steps out the door. 

~~~

Dumbledore’s office was an array of magical objects Harry doubted that most pureblood wizards even knew what they did. He had to refrain from touching a few as he waited for Dumbledore to finish whatever meeting he was in. A rainbow scarf wrapped around the sorting hat gave him a wink as he walked past and Harry sneered back at it. 

The door finally opens and Dumbledore steps out. Harry lights up.

“Ah, Harry. It seems you have a visitor.”

Harry stares at him bewildered. Was he hearing the old man correctly?

“Professor?” He asks. 

“They’re right in the office. Oh, and it seems I'm running late for tea with Minnie again. She’s rather feisty when I’ve let the biscuits go cold.”

“Hello to you too I guess...” Harry frowns and mutters to himself watching him walk out the door. He hadn’t even offered him a lemon drop this time. Harry had hoped after their meeting at the end of last term the man would stop shying away from him. Apparently not. 

Harry pushes open the door to face whoever was waiting for him on the other side. His wand was in his hand just in case. Turns out he didn’t need it. 

“Remus?"

The man looked up from where he was admiring the titles on the bookshelf. He looked tired and while that wasn’t very unusual on the werewolf, it looked worse than normal. Almost as if he hadn’t slept a week in weeks. Harry suddenly feels guilty for not writing.

“Harry,” he smiles warmly. “How have you been?”

“I’m… fine. What are you doing here? Dumbledore said you were on a mission for the order.”

“I was. It went south quicker than I would have hoped.” He rubs his jaw where he was growing some faint stubble. It made him look a lot older than he really was. 

“Did something happen? Was there another attack- ?”

“It's fine Harry,” he sighs. “You shouldn’t have to worry about it. That's not why I came here. I wanted to see how you were doing.”

Harry falters. Out of everything that seemed to be the last thing he was expecting. Why was Remus just now taking so much interest in him? He barely wrote last year and especially not the one before. The only time he ever even saw him was at Grimmauld Place.

“I’m okay but…. you don’t have to do this, you know that, right?”

“Do what?”

“Check in on me- and  _ don’t _ try to deny it.”

“It’s not necessarily a bad thing, Harry.”

“I’m sixteen. I can handle it, okay? Tell me what happened about your mission.”

“Harry,” Remus says, laying his hand on his shoulder causing Harry to look up and to meet his eyes. “Just because you have a high pain tolerance doesn’t mean you should have to be in pain. Sirius-”

Harry pulls his shoulders back. “-Is the only reason you’re doing this, right?. You feel guilty. Well, you don’t have to. I relinquish you of whatever duty that makes you feel like you have to watch out for me now.”

Remus’s hand falls back to his side slowly. His hands move as though they were trying to grasp something that wasn’t there. His face turns crestfallen and takes a back from Harry.

“You’re right, I do. But not because of Sirius. It only made me wake up to how much I missed out on with you. I know I’m kind of late but… I want to at least try.”

“You’re not Padfoot, so stop acting like it.” Harry spits before he can stop it. He immediately regrets it seeing the reaction on the older man's face.

“I just meant that you don’t have to protect me anymore. I already learned my lesson. It’s too late for that one. ”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to. I should have talked to you more before and I regret it. I was scared you wouldn’t want me and I realized at the train station how selfish I was being. Especially now with Sirius gone. I don’t expect you to forgive me at first but at least let me make it up to you.”

Harry bit his lip. They had been close when he was thirteen and he had hoped and failed to keep that connection. But Remus was hurting just as much, if not worse, because of Sirius. Remus was one of the only people Harry had left of his parents and vise versa. Wouldn’t it be selfish to deny them both of that?

But Remus had many chances to reconnect with him. He didn't want to be someone’s last choice or baggage. 

“You don’t have to,” Remus says sadly. “But I’m here for you if you ever want to talk about your parents or Sirius. I know I could never replace them.”

Harry nods solemnly. He would at least give it a try. He owed it to Sirius. 

“If you want, how about you take a break from Hogwarts next weekend and come to visit? I found a flat not far from headquarters.”

“Really? I can do that?”

“Well, no.” Remus grins. “I had to nag Dumbledore for permission for a half-hour before he even thought about it. But if we’re careful Dumbledore apparates us both we’ll be fine.”

“I’ll think about it.” 

“Thank you, that's all I ask for. I’ll be here next Friday and if you don’t come I’ll understand.” He opens his arms and bends down to engulf Harry in a large hug. 


	25. Start A Riot

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR**

**[Start A Riot]**

**HERMIONE**

She was planning something and Hermione knew it. It was ridiculously obvious with the way she was lingering around the bookshelves near where the bookworm sat. Hermione tried to ignore her at first, but the Slytherin was insistent on making her presence known. She kept shooting her indiscreet prying glances and Hermione raises an eyebrow back as to dare her to make a move.

“I believe,” Pansy finally cuts the tension, stopping in front of Hermione's table. “That you have no use for that book anymore. You’ve read it five times over now. Whatever you’re searching for it’s not in there.”

Hermione looks up from her text slowly, looking her up and down lazily before shrugging and going back to her book. Pansy Parkinson was a nasty piece of work she knew from first-hand experience. Always hanging off Malfoys’ side like a stranded puppy and hexing anyone under the sun that didn’t improve her own social standing. Hermione wasn’t about to give into the one illusion that made her seem untouchable. She was pretty, sure, but was hardly as intimidating as she liked to believe herself to be. Don’t give them the time of day and suddenly their entire platform was wiped out from underneath them.

The chair in front of her was suddenly pulled out from under the table. She didn’t have to look up to know Pansy was now plopped down in front of her and staring at her, her head cupped in her hands.

“What do you want, Parkinson?” 

“Your book of course. You’re done with it, are you not? Take your notes and get on with it.”   
  
“As joyous as that sounds, I’ll have to decline. It’s not due for another week and I’m quite content with what I’m doing now thanks.”

“What a drag, Granger. Your studying habits are quite atrocious. How  _ do _ you find time to smother weasel and Potter between it all?”

“Easily, actually. Might be the time I save from not hexing every first-year I see in the hall.”

Pansy laughs maliciously then kicks her feet up on the edge of the table. Hermione had to stop herself from grimacing as the dirt shakes off onto one of the decade old books. “Is that so? Then what about all your other stunts? I’m sure those take a considerable amount of planning.”   
  
She was trying to steer the topic away from its original topic. She hadn’t meant for the book at all, Hermione realized. She wanted something from her. 

“Well why don’t you go read the prophet then? If you’re so adamant about learning what I do in my free time I’m sure you’ll be able to find it all with a little bit of digging.”

“Touch é,” she smiles as she tilts her head to the side. “Your famous adventures.”   
  
Hermione nods her head, not giving away the slightest hint of emotion. Give them an inch and they take a mile. Though she had to admit Pansy was getting on her nerves. Harry was relying on her to fix that blasted curse. The idiot had already wasted valuable time on not neglecting to go to the nurse. She needed every second of her time focused and Pansy’s presence was throwing her off. It didn’t help that the frog spawn was  _ right _ about her statement either. There  _ was _ nothing else in this book but there were barely any books over the particular subject and it was making her feel helpless. Her patience was cutting short.

“ _ The Obscurity of Curses and their Antidotes.  _ Quite an advanced text for some light reading. Did Weasel already end up cursing himself? Or was it Scarhead this time?” 

Hermione sets her books down finally and shoots her with a fixed stare. “I don’t see what it is to you, Parkinson. Did you forget that you’re in line for such a book as well? You’re a pureblood after all. Shouldn’t this knowledge come handed down? You ancestors worked hard on keeping such essential knowledge only in the hands of the powerful. Would be a shame to see it all go to waste.”

Pansy laughs and tilts back her head. “You would have fit right into Slytherin. Sad you hadn’t, we lost such a powerful witch in the process. Especially considering your parentage. You fell right into the hands of blood traitors sadly. You would have done well with knowledge ”

Hermione hand travels to her wand under the table.Put it to Parkinson to be a racist bitch in every situation she could. Magic, no matter in what form, was a gift and to treat it with such disdain was disgraceful. Magic in all forms should be treasured. 

“What are you doing, Parkinson?” Hermione finally snaps. “You clearly aren’t here for the book, so what do you want? Unless you just wanted to provide me with more evidence on my research of corruption in magical law, which I doubt, as it wouldn’t be a beneficial move on your part.”   
  
“What? Can’t a witch get into the inter-house unity spirit?”   
  
Hermione scoffs as she rolls her eyes. “Fat chance. Now get the bloody hell away from me.”

“Or what?” Pansy taunts in an almost sing-song tone. She smirks again and leans forward close enough she can smell the peppermint gum on her breath. Hermione doesn't even blink. “You’ll make me?"

“Do you want to test it?”

~~~

**DRACO**

Draco lets out a sigh of relief when the last Slytherin leaves the common room, leaving him alone. He sets down the transfiguration essay he has been working on and checks the time. 

_ 11:12 _

He curses. Harry probably thought he wasn’t going to show now. That probably would be characteristic of him too in Harry’s eyes. The thought led him to playing with his lip anxiously. He  _ liked _ that they were on good terms and he really, _ really _ didn’t want to mess that up. He was the only good thing that was happening to him. 

He looked both ways to make sure no one was coming before booking it up one and through the portrait on the wall. Salazar only raises an eyebrow at him but otherwise stays silent. Draco made a note in his head to thank the painting later. With his luck the painting would want something in return.

The dungeon corridor was completely silent save for the flickering of the enchanted torches. Draco pulled his Quidditch jacket tighter around him to protect himself from the damp chill from the stones. 

Either Harry was long gone or he was bluffing about knowing where his common room was. There was no one here. Of course there wasn’t. Draco felt his cheeks go slightly red in embarrassment. 

“Fucking Potter.” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind his ear huffing. He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up. He pleasantly ignored the fact the plausibility that it was his fault for being late. “Of course he would-”   
  
A hand suddenly covers his mouth from behind. Draco lets out an unmanly yelp. “Shut up. Do you  _ want _ to get caught?”

He whips out of the grasp and around to the voice. 

It was Harry. Or, most of him at least. The bottom half of him down was completely gone. 

Suddenly Draco feels incredibly dumb. Naturally the idiot used his cloak to sneak out at night. What else. 

Harry rolls his eyes at his blank face then grabs his wrist to pull him closer. In a flash he’s pulled under the fabric and into Harry. Draco’s eyes go wide. There's barely enough room for the both of them under it, and being that Draco is a few good inches taller, he had the crouch down slightly to be eye level. 

“Harry-”   
  


“I said shut up. Snape is coming.”

At that very second his godfather comes sweeping around the corner. His black robes sweep around him menacingly as he examines the sealed entrance way to the common room. Draco holds his breath with fear. Draco has been extra conscious since the start of term with the man. He was one of Voldemort’s closest followers, and yet he seemed to care for Draco as well. But which one more he didn’t know. When the time came would his godfather hand him back over to the Dark Lord?

Snape snaps his attention off from the wall and to the seemingly empty corridor. Draco bit his lip panicking and made sure they weren’t revealing themselves in any way. It was uncanny the way the man was looking directly through them.

“Do not hide from me.  _ Revelio! _ ”

Snape looks mildly annoyed at the fact his charm didn't work. “Don’t play games with me.  _ Homenum revelio!” _ _   
_   
Draco’s hand instinctively went to Harry’s wrist. There was no way Snape wouldn’t-

The man’s jaw ticked and his hand tightened around his wand. Without a word he turned and fled back down the hallway he came. Draco’s mouth dropped, dummy-slackened.

“What was that?” Draco whispers yells soon as he’s out of sight. “Professor Snape just cast two detection charms and he didn’t even catch a  _ hint _ of our magical signature. Where did you  _ get _ this?” 

Draco touches the silvery material for the first time admiring how useful it really was. 

Harry shrugs. “No clue. It was my dads before Dumbledore gave it to me when I was eleven. Now come on. I’m not going to stand in these freezing dungeons waiting to get eaten alive. The Halflorn siblings are on their prefect rounds about two hallway away. Let’s go.”   
  
“And how do you know that?”   
  
“I have my ways.” Harry raises his eyebrow mischievously. He reaches into his robes for and reveals a slightly crinkled thing of parchment. It was yellowing from years of use. Draco was in the middle of opening his mouth for some smart-ass remark when Harry taps his wand to the front of it. “I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good.”

The paper suddenly transformed into an inky world-wind. The words ‘ _ Marauder's Map _ ’ started to inscribe themselves on the front. As Harry began to open it he instantly recognized it as a map of Hogwarts. Every single corridor and passageway was drawn out in perfect detail, even some Draco didn’t know existed himself. Surprisingly he even found his own tower labeled but with no visible entranceway. The biggest thing were the dozens of moving dots moving throughout the corridors. On closer expectation he could see names scribbled underneath them.

There was a delicious moment where Draco's face washed blank with confusion, like his brain cogs couldn't turn fast enough to take in the information from his wide eyes. Every muscle of his body just froze before a grin crept onto his face, it soon stretched from one side to the other showing his perfectly mastered aristocratic smile. “That's brilliant.”

“Exactly.” He looks up and shoots Draco a stupid grin. Draco abruptly realizes how close they are. They’re nearly nose-to-nose. Harry lets out a small laugh and it hits Draco’s cheeks, turning them red. 

They make in through the rest of the dungeons with ease. The entire time Draco’s can’t feel oddly bewildered. He had never snuck out before, always afraid of the repercussions his father would impose if he ever found out. It felt liberating and reckless and perfect. And as Harry dragged him along by the grasp Draco had on his wrist he couldn’t help but smile a little back.

They set down the cloak to sit on by the edge of the lake. Draco’s attention shifts from the boy beside him to above him. The stars light the sky like snow-flakes in the night, yet appear still, like an old muggle photograph. The lake at their feet was as flat as any mirror as it reflected the moon. It lay without a ripple in the murky black water as if time itself had been frozen. From the tall pines around the edge came not a sound, no movement of branches, no birds calling. It was just the two of them.

“Do you do that often?” Draco breaks the silence. 

“Do what? Sneak out of the common room?”

Draco nods.

“Of course I have. It wouldn’t be Hogwarts if I didn't.” Harry points out. Then; “Don’t tell Snape that though. ”   
  


Draco snorts as he lays back on the cloak. The strand of hair he kept tucking behind his ear came loose and fell lazily across his cheek. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

“Isn’t he supposed to be your favorite?” Harry teases. “Teachers pet afterall.”

“What do you expect? Of course he’s going to pick favorites. He’s my godfather afterall.”   
  


“ _ Godfather?” _

“You’re awfully slow. I figured the entire school already knew.”   
  
“Hell no. That- that actually makes a lot more sense now. I knew you couldn’t possibly actually be that good a potions.”

Draco pulls out a chunk of grass and flicks it at the brunet. “You’re just jealous you can’t even properly dice your ingredients.”   
  
“Unfair! I could if the bugger didn’t breathe down my neck the entire time! The man has his own vendetta against me, I swear.” 

“Wouldn’t be too far fetched,” Draco says. He thinks back to all the cruel remarks he heard him spit at Harry during class. He used to laugh at them too. The thought twists his stomach.

“The cloak. You said it was you fathers?”   
  


“What about it?”

Draco knew he should apologize for all the things he said about Harry’s parents. Even after he had realized his father's misdoings he still used it as a low-blow on the boy to help his own ego. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing comes out. 

“Draco?”   
  
“It’s just that… I’ve never seen one like it before. Most just have temporary charms on them and run out after about a year. Severus cast a presence detection spell on us and he didn’t find us. It’s like that erased our existence completely.”

Harry shrugs. “No idea honestly. It’s useful though.”   
  
“Certainly.” He turns his attention away from the sky and back to Harry. He was still sitting cross legged and playing with the map. “May I see it?”   
  
The map was a clever work of magic. A fascinating use of the homonculous charm. He would have never thought of such a use for it. Now that he held it in his hands he could see names written at the top.

_ “‘Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs,’”  _ Draco reads aloud. Incredibly odd nicknames. Who in their right mind would willingly let themself be called  _ Wormtail _ ? 

“My dad and his friends made the map while in school.” He answers Draco’s questioning looks. He points out the last name on the list. “That's him, Prongs. And Padfoot, my godfather.”   
  


_ “Godfather?” _ Draco copies Harry from earlier. Except that it was actually a bit more surprising. “If you have a godfather, why on Salazar’s name would that  arse-licker  send you to those bastard muggles? He has no legality to meddle into those affairs!”

“Well, I don’t think Azkaban would have been a really nice place to raise a child.” At Draco’s confused face he clarifies. “Sirius Black.”

The name sets him on edge. The famous Azkaban escapee that betrayed his friends and killed twelve defenseless muggles in the process. Also his second uncle. He remembers their third year when the dementors roamed the school while he was after Harry to finish the job. Sirius Black was the reason Harry’s parents were dead and he had a scar engraved on his forehead. 

Draco genuinely didn’t know how to respond. Instead he just raises and imaginary glass into the air. “Cheers to horrible godfathers then?”

“Actually,” Harry nervously taps his wand against his knee. A nervous habit he had Draco was starting to pick up on. “He was innocent.”

Draco raises an eyebrow. “Oh? That's...quite a statement.”

Harry sighs then points to the first name. “Wormtail: Peter Pettigrew.”

Draco feels his blood freezes. It finally hits why the nickname seemed so familiar. 

“ _ Wormtail!” _

_ A small, balding man steps up nervously from behind Voldmort’s wannabe throne. His features were mousy and fit with his stuttering nature. He made sure not to meet his master’s eyes, a sure death sentence in his presence. He settled for kneeling at his feet where Nagini laid, ready to pounce at a moment’s notice. “Y-yes my lord?” _

_ “Did I not tell you to keep the prisoners quiet?” _

_ “You d-d-did, my lord.” _

_ “The  _ why  _ is my peaceful dinner being sabotaged by your ignorance? Surely you do you wish to be...disposed of your position?” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “N-no, my lord. I will fix it. R-Right now, my lord.” _

_ “Not so fast, Peter.” A hand reaches down seemingly to pet the man’s cheek. Instead he grips the man’s jaw and forces him to meet his eyes. “How would we learn if we do not punish?” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Draco doesn’t even see him bring out his wand. As soon as he hears the words ‘crucio’ leave the man’s mouth his eyes involuntarily squeeze shut. Tremors racks through his body at the poor man's screams. On his left his father’s hand grabs his leg tight enough to bruise as a warning to behave. He knew if he didn’t it would be him on the floor as soon as the doors shut for the night. _

“My Godfather was innocent and that rat  _ framed _ him. He didn’t even get a trial. I could have had a loving family… I…”   
  
“There's no point in thinking about what could have been.”   
  


Harry shuffles his feet. “Heard that before. Doesn’t make it any easier to block it out though.”

The tension is back and Draco doesn’t know what to do. He’s dreadful at comforting people. Slytherin’s weren’t known for their openness and his parents never once showed him a flicker of warmth, so he simply never learned.

“Does Dumbledore know he’s innocent?”

Harry’s still for a moment contemplating something. Finally he shakes his head. “Yeah, he did.”

“That  blast-ended skank.” Draco shakes his head. “ He’s the  Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, he can pardon anyone if at least a third of the court agreed with him. He could simply point out the fact he never got a trial and they'll have to let him be a free man until the court date and which I don’t doubt he’ll win if Dumbledore is on his side.”   
  
Harry is caught off guard. “He- what? He can do that?”

“No wonder you dropped history of magic. Yes, he can. If he wanted he can order an investigation into the case and whoever sent him without wrongly can face up to five years in Azkaban. I know you’d rather not hear it but I stand with what I said that day. If Dumbledore really wants to you can be out of the house with a snap of his fingers.”

“Oh.” He says dumbly. “It doesn’t really matter now anyways.”   
  


“And why is that? You could finally be free, don’t you want that?”   
  


“He’s dead.” Harry’s eyes are blank when he says it. It’s almost frightening the way the dark lake reflects on his startling green eyes. 

Draco swallows heavily and tears his gaze away. From his reaction he had no idea how close the two of them were but he knew from experience it was… confusing. He’d read all about the stages of grief to know that himself was still in the denial stage with Bramble. After all, how could he ever believe his father? It might have been a bluff but who knows. There was a brief second where he did though. Right after he muttered those words in the inn where it felt like emptiness in his heart, a shear of nothingness that somehow took over and held his soul and threatened to kill him entirely. It gave him a heavy feeling that’s like the weight of the world was resting on his shoulders and there was nothing he could do to get out from under it. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Well like you said, there’s no point thinking about what could have been.”

Draco looks up at the sky where he easily spots Canis Major. Harry follows his gaze and his expression seems to crack.

“Yeah.”


	26. Mystery of Love

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE**

**[Mystery of Love]**

**HARRY 1994-1995**

_“The Irish don’t stand a chance.”_

_“That's rubbish! Victor Krum may be an amazing seeker but the Irish defenses are the best in the world. Not even Levski can get a goal past their seeker.”_

_“The Bulgarian team hasn’t lost a single match all season. Offense is more important anyways. It keeps the quaffle away and scores points. Defense is a good strategy but requires you to depend on a seeker. Nice try seeing Lynch take the snitch from Krum.”_

_Harry turned to see his best friend and Diggory argue in rapid-fire about their predictions for the upcoming match. Harry opted to keep his mouth shut and look anywhere but the boy sitting a seat away. He didn’t exactly know why but it felt crucial he did otherwise he’ll mess something up. Still, he couldn’t help sneak a few glances their way when something particular caught his ear._

_“Harry, tell him! You pulled off a wronski feint when we were first years! It’s not that hard, really. Now if he could pull off a sloth grip roll- no wait I think he did! Last year, right? It was the match with-”_

_“Ron!” Harry hisses under his breath._

_“With Hufflepuff. Yeah, I remember.” Cedric takes his attention off the redhead and onto a desperate-looking Harry. “You took a pretty nasty fall though, didn’t you?”_

_Harry, with no other choice, turns to finally take Cedric’s features in. He had tousled dark brown hair, which was thick and lustrous. His eyes were a mesmerizing colour of dove feathers, not the albino kind, but the ones with a hue so softly grey that they could have been pencil drawn. They had that look of birds flying on sunlit days, the shine and quick movement, yet relaxed, purposeful, at ease. His face was strong and defined, his features molded from granite. He had dark eyebrows, which arched upwards in a playful expression. The serious line on his face he had in front of his father earlier that morning was long gone._

_Harry gulped. He quickly turned away, eyes glued on the Quidditch pitch, and nervously started tapping his thigh. “Yep. Almost broke my arm.”_

_“I’ve seen you play a lot. You really are a brilliant seeker. Had it not been for the dementor I don’t think we would have never won. I still stand by what I said. Rematch anytime you want.”_

_Harry laughed meekly with a smile and tried to forget the way the compliment filled him up. “I’m really not. Ron’s just exaggerating. I’m sure your team would agree with that very much either.”_

_“No, really. I insist. A rematch is only fair.”_

_“I-”_

_“Come on Harry! We could beat him! What about a two-on-two when we get back to Hogwarts?” Ron interjects. Harry discreetly elbows him in the side earning him a glare. “Oi! What was that for?”_

_“I’ll be happy to. Perhaps you could show me how to pull off that signature dive of yours? No one in Hogwarts history can pull one as close as you.”_

_Harry laughed nervously again. No doubt Cedric thought he was weird now. But it seemed like his brain had reverted back to the prehistoric age cause he couldn’t seem to string a single sentence together. The way Cedric was looking at the side of his face had blown every thought away._

_“Mate, are you okay? You look to be running a fever.” Ron reaches out to touch his forehead and Harry ducks away just as fast._

_“I’m fine,” Harry speaks a little too quickly. “Just a little warm out today.”_

_“Are you sure? My father said it wouldn’t be over twenty this afternoon.” Cedric’s eyebrow arches as he speaks. Harry tried not to stare._

_Merlin, why couldn’t Ron_ shut up?

_~~~_

_“You’re raving mad.”_

_Cedric throws his head back in a laugh. “I know.”_

_Snape would be pissed as soon as he found out there was no ‘champian business’ to take care of. Both of them would be scrubbing cauldrons till their hands bleed for the rest of term._

_“He’ll kill us.”’_

_“Relax. I had Cho cover for us. No one will know we’re missing for a couple of hours or so.”_

_It was seven at night. Most of the school was gathering in the Great Hall for dinner and it left the hallways free for them to roam. Cedric had his hand on his wrist and was dragging him who-knows-where despite his pleas._

_“I hope you know this is a terrible idea. Trouble follows me wherever I go. We could get hexed any second now.”_

_Cedric stopped suddenly causing Harry to nearly run into him and they’re hands to drop between them. They’re gazes meet and the intensity briefly startles them both. “Just...trust me, okay?”_

_“...fine.”_

_The grin that broke out on Cedric’s face was contagious. They were soon flying through the corridors with stupid smiles on their faces and their laughs bouncing off the walls. They went through a couple Harry didn’t recognize until they stopped in front of a large portrait of fruit. He raised his eyebrow as Cedric held a finger up to his lips._

_“Hufflepuff secret. Promise you won’t tell anyone?”_

_He nods. Cedric turns back and startles tickling the pear. The painting lets out a childish squeal then a large green handle appears. He gestures to Harry to get inside quickly before they get caught._

_Once inside Harry held his breath. It was a kitchen, that much was obvious, but it had been transformed. It looked like a scene out of one of those sappy romantic films aunt used to watch when she thought no one was looking. Except for this time, there were floating candles above a small, booth-like table in the corner of the dim room. On was a fancy red tablecloth with plates of food that looked delicious even from afar. Music was playing faintly in the background as well._

_“Cedric?” He asks carefully. He was frozen to his feet. He had already admitted to himself that perhaps he had a wee-tiny-bit crush on Cedric. It was hard not too. Cedric was the bucket of water that woke people up to their sexualities. The situation wouldn’t be so bad if he didn't give him those looks occasionally that led them to believe anything would ever come from it. But the scene in front of him…. He really couldn't think clearly. The blood rushing in his ears was too loud._

_“It’s sappy I know. Alexi thought it would be romantic though… Are you okay?”_

_“Romantic?” He asks. Harry’s slow at processing the words. He looks up at Cedric with a confused look._

_Cedric’s face falters. “If you're not...that’s okay. Shit. I just assumed you were. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. You can go if you want.”_

_“No no, I am just…”_

_“Just…?”_

_“I didn’t know you were.”_

_Cedric’s mouth drops. “I thought I made it pretty obvious. I mean, I thought the entire school knew? I’ve been pretty open about it.”_

_“Oh.” Is all Harry can say. He wants to look away from the soft grey eyes but he can’t. Cedric seems to be thinking the same cause it’s silent for a long moment._

_Without hesitation, they both slowly moved in. Not knowing when it happened his lips were suddenly locked with Cedrics’, kissing him. Soft and slow and he tasted like November, like hot chocolate on stormy evenings and crisp autumn air. The start of the soft-touch sent a strong feeling of warmth spiraling through his system. It was a bit sloppy for Harry’s first but neither cared. His eyes closed fearlessly, but the closure didn’t let him see darkness, it instead created colours of fondness._

_~~~_

_“Ron’s okay with it you know. You and Cedric.”_

_Harry nearly snaps his head towards the girl sitting next to him fast enough to break it. Hermione was looking at him fondly with a knowing look._

_“We’ve known for a while now.”_

_“How?”_

_“Well, you aren’t exactly subtle with your staring… And you’ve never mentioned any girls really.”_

_Harry’s face tinges a soft red. “Well, you're a girl. What would it be weird to talk about with you, wouldn’t it?”_

_“That's not what I meant Harry and you know it.”_

_His gaze shifts across the Great Hall that was transformed for the ball. Cedric was spinning Cho Chang, his best friend. They had both thought it would be better to bring other dates as Harry wasn’t ready to come out yet. Now that as Harry sat on one of the benches watching him spin her around he was starting to regret it._

_Cedric catches his eye and winks at him. He jerks his head towards the exit and holds up a hand. The message was clear._ Meet me in five.

_“Go to him. We can talk later. Ron and I can distract Parvati.”_

_Harry gives her a wide relieved smile and gives her a huge hug. “Thank you so much.”_

_“Be careful!” She teases as he walks away._

_“Shut up!” He yells over his shoulder. Cedric was standing by the exit by the time Harry had weaved his way through the crowd. His knee-length dress robes complimented him ever better up close._

_“You clean up very nicely,” Cedric says, pushing himself off against the wall. “Care to dance?”_

_“And cut the line for some other hoping girl on your tail? I don’t think that’ll be very fair.”_

_“Me? Harry, have you looked around yourself? Even McLain is staring at you.”_

_He turns to look and Cedric chuckles. “Come on. There's an empty classroom not far. I figured just because we couldn’t be public there's no reason we had to waste the whole night.”_

_They leave when they’re sure everyone has stopped staring at them. Harry has to walk twice as fast to keep up. Yet sure enough, when they get there Cedric has the whole room transfigured into a miniature ballroom just for them._

_“Show off.”_

_“Perhaps. I have to put my talents somewhere though.”_

_The younger teens’ bright eyes shone as he placed his delicate hand in the other’s; he placed his hand on Harry’s waist and whisked him onto the small dance floor and they turned and twirled as if they were professionals. Every couple of seconds they stopped and switched roles. Harry was dreadful at both and stepped on Cedric’s feet more than a couple times earning a few laughs.”_

_Eventually, the music (from the muggle record player he just realized) started to play more upbeat. The boys continued their dance, and to Harry, every movement was full of chaos and pure joy. They advanced, retreated, pirouetted, their arms waving from side to side above their heads, their heads swaying, their robes fluttering. Harry doesn’t even notice the wide, permanent smile on his face. Everything was perfect._

_~~~_

_“We’ll do it together.”_

_“Together.”_

_Cedric nods. “I go in first. I’ll be waiting a couple meters ahead.”_

_Harry nods. He couldn’t trust himself to speak. The last task was in less than twelve hours. They had spent countless hours together practicing and researching spells that could help them. Despite it, he couldn’t shake off the paranoia and nerves that came with the event. The third task was always the most dangerous in Triwizard Tournament history and he’d barely survived the first two. They had no idea what they were getting into._

_“You’ll do fine,” Cedric says sitting down next to him and takes his hand. The fake dummy’s Dumbledore had provided them were gutted and thrown about the floor around them. It was their longest time in the practice room yet. They were sweating and exhausted because of it, but Harry himself could care less. The repetition of it helped calm his nerves._

_“You don’t know that.”_

_“You’ve come this far not even without the same amount of time to study magic as the rest of us. You’re better at me in defense in a long shot too.”_

_Harry tilts his head so it’s leaning into his boyfriend’s shoulder. “It’s still dangerous. Hermione said most casualties were always in the last task.”_

_“That's why we’re doing it together. Do you still have the snitch I gave you?”_

_Harry digs the golden ball from his pocket. At Cedric’s touch, it fluttered to life and started to dance above their heads._

_“Good luck charm. If we get separated somehow you still have that. Here, hide it up your sleeve.”_

_Cedric caught it and handed it back to Harry who obliged and rolled up his sweatshirt. The dragonhide gloves Harry got him for Christmas scratched funnily at his forearm as Cedric showed him how to smuggle it in properly._

_“Use Point Me if you can’t find me,” Harry says quickly. “The judges won’t know.”_

_Cedric nods before engulfing Harry in a hug. His nose nuzzles itself in his thick mess of hair. “You’ll do fine.” He whispers._

_“That's not who I’m worried about.”_

_~~~_

_The grief came in waves and threatened to consume him entirely. He was at the mercy of its whims and at times it bit at him with such ferocity he feared it would leave him an empty shell. The emptiness in his heart, the numbness pounding his brain, the salty tears that flowed unchecked from his eyes, the sheer nothingness that now took hold of his soul threatened to engulf him entirely._

_He stood on the brink of something he couldn't describe. The weight of everything seemed to press down on his shoulders and he struggled to take even a single step forward. It was too much. All of it. And somehow, he kept moving. But every step cost him. The darkness grew darker; the pain grew sharper; all of it seemed to only grow in strength and he began to wonder if things could ever get better._

_Harry felt dead inside. His tongue felt dry. His throat felt as if someone thrust a handful of itching powder inside. His eyes were scruffy. He hadn’t gone down to eat in days and what Hermione and Ron did bring up to him ended up in the trash. He simply wasn’t hungry. How could he be when the only thing in his mind was the scene in the graveyard on repeat?_

_His fingers twitched painfully at the memory of the crucatious. The way that bastard held him, tied him up, after what he’d done. He hadn’t even hesitated. Every time he slept he could only see the blood, the death, and the blinding green of the killing curse._

_Cedric was gone and the man who murdered his parents was back. In only a few hours it felt like his life had morphed into a nightmare, except there was no waking up from this one._

_His red eyes slowly opened to take in the stillness of his dorm. It was the end-of-term feast where Dumbledore was to make a speech on Cedric’s behalf. Everyone else was gone. He couldn’t bring himself to join. Just the thought brought a familiar soreness to his eyes._

_Moonlight from the open window weaved its way through the curtains. Somewhere in the distance, there was the sound of hooting owls and croaking frogs. He moved his breathing to mimic it._

_Then he saw it. The gold sitting on top of his bedside table. His heart nearly cracked in half just then. The snitch Cedric had won the first time they had spoken. He reached out and touched it, half expecting it to flutter alive. It stayed motionless._

‘Kill the spare.’

_Was that all everyone was going to come down to in the end?_


	27. Birds

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX**

**[Birds]**

**HARRY**

Harry hated floo travel. Growing up with muggles he simply never got comfortable with it. It was messy, left him disoriented, and left an uneasy stomach. Nevertheless, it was the only option to get into Remus's home. He hadn't been yet keyed to the apparition wards and the older man wasn't the best on a broom.

"I've been meaning too, just-"

"Work?"

Remus sighed and gave him a smile.

The house wasn't anything dramatic which was to be expected. Anything else would have been out of character. It stood on a slight rise just on the edge of a small village and looked over a broad spread of West Country farmland. It wasn't by remarkable by any means - it was about thirty years old, squattish, squarish, made of brick, and had four windows set in the front of a size and proportion which more or less exactly failed to please. The living room was a jungle of bookcases overflowing with old fraying books, both muggle and magical alike. Papers and letters seemingly addressed to no one were piled up to the letterbox and cascaded all the way to the foot of the rough wooden stairs, old teacups laid on a coffee table looking on its last leg, and light streaming through the gaps in the cheap burgundy curtains. A part of Harry ticked to pick up a vacuum and start cleaning.

"Do you want some tea?"

"That would be great, thank you."

Remus nodded and busied himself in the small kitchen that connected to the sitting room. Harry watched awkwardly and sat down on one of the patched armchairs right to the fireplace. It was odd. He never had imagined in the days contemplating whether or not he should come what Remus' home looked like. He just assumed the man still lived in Grimmland place, though now that he thought about it, it was quite a stupid idea. The place had to hold more bad memories for him than it did Harry.

The clattering of a saucer being sat down in front of him startled him out of his thoughts. Remus was sitting on the chair across from him and was saying something.

"I'm glad you came."

"Me too." He picked up the cup to avoid meeting his eye. Harry was doing this for Sirius's sake.

"How's school?"

"It's.... harder." He replies. They were only half a month into school and Harry could already feel the drain his N.E.W.T. classes were having on him. He was just glad he didn't have to take potions this year. (Yes, he would never become an auror now but what was the point when he was destined to die so soon after school anyway?) Hermione said Professor Slughorn was particularly ambitious on 'collecting' students for his slugclub, something he couldn't be less interested in. He voiced the thoughts to the man who agreed with him.

"He taught when we were in school. He treated teaching as his own little networking game. Lily was his favorite by far. Fussed over her amazing work in class all the time. He tried collecting Sirius too but he burned the invitation to ashes after class where he knew the old bugger could see him."

A wistful smile tugged at Harry's lips as it always did when his godfather's misdeeds during school were told. It would have been hilarious to watch.

"Anything else interesting to tell?"

Harry's mind automatically flew to Draco. They had snuck out a few more times since the night at the lake and he was finding himself to become increasingly addicted to the blonde's presence. He was smart, witty, and surprisingly mischievous after Harry had finally cracked his goody-two-shoes shell. Their midnight visits had quickly had become a highlight of his er- well, night.

There was also the issue of the curse. It had spread up to his sternum a couple days ago after Hermione had wrongfully thought she had finally found a counter-curse. Harry doesn't think he had ever thrown up so much afterward, not even when his uncle had forced him to eat year -expired soup.

In the end, Harry shook his head. "Nope, not much. You?"

"Just missions for the Order. I haven't been home very much so please excuse the mess. I only just got home last night actually."

"Really? What was it?"

"To kill that bitch Bellatrix Lestrange of course."

Harry spits out his tea. "What?"

"She's You-Know-Who's right-hand servant, but she's also a Black and she's very proud of that. She's been trying to claim Sirius' fortune for her own through various solicitorssince she can't very much go in herself being an Azkaban escapee. Dumbledore thinks if we can track one of them down we might be able to locate her. With her gone, it would be a devastating blow."

Harry lets the information mull over in his head. A part of him was frustrated at his words. Remus had chastised him for going after the woman and was now doing it himself?

"Doesn't that create a conflict-of-interest?"

"Sometimes war needs conflicts-of-interest." He says looking down into his cup of tea. The lines in his face were pulled tight as it looked like he was in deep thought about something. "It allows people to fight more passionately."

"Dumbledore told you that, did he? Well, it's rubbish." Harry can hear the traces of Draco in his voice. They had spent a lot of time talking about the headmaster and only now it became clear hearing the words come out of Remus's mouth how much the Slytherin might actually be right about things. "Dumbledore doesn't know the value of people so don't let him tell him where your emotions should go. War is important but there is no point in destroying yourself when it can be avoided. You can't chase after Bellatrix just like you told me I couldn't."

Remus looks up surprised to hear Harry speak badly of his headmaster. "I _want_ to fight."

"Do you? Or do you just want revenge?"

"You don't understand." Remus looked stricken.

"Oh, I don't? Tell me then. I clearly don't know a _thing_ about losing people."

"Harry-"

"Go on."

Remus sets his cup back on the table at Harry's frightening glare. He twiddles with the loose strings on the end of his jumper sleeve as he tries to not to meet it. He gulped rather timidly which Harry found strangely timid on a thirty-year-old man. "He didn't want you to know."

"Know _what?"_

Remus looked as if he would rather be anywhere else than where he was. Harry knew the man wasn't one to confront hard subjects as he learned from third year. "He was very special to me." He finally says, cutting into the thick silence. "I cared for him."

"So did I!"

Silence. Remus shakes his head just barely with a disconsolate smile.

It takes a second but it clicks. Oh. _Oh._

Harry instantly deflates in shock. His brain stutters for a moment and his eyes take in more light than he expected, every part of him goes on pause while his thoughts catch up. He genuinely doesn't know what to say.

The moment Harry realized he'd misinterpreted his actions, his words, his expressions for so many years... as if he'd been speaking a language he couldn't understand, it felt like the picture in the puzzle he'd been solving for years suddenly switched.

"Harry?"

"I...did he know? Sirius?"

Remus takes in a deep breath. "Yes. He knew."

"And?"

"Out of some slim chance, he reciprocated."

Adrenaline floods his system. It pumps and beats like it's trying to escape. He didn't know why, there was no immediate danger but his heart told him otherwise. Perhaps it was because it edged so close to something that Harry himself had been trying to keep pushed down for years. His own sexuality was something he no longer wanted to think about, and now Sirius in the mix... It brought up so many things he didn't want to think about. He was terrified of someone finding out, _especially_ Sirius, and everything had been suddenly flipped. He couldn't handle it.

Harry let out a slow controlled breath at the slight tremors that started to take control of his hands. "You're gay?" His voice is more shakey than he would have liked. His throat felt as if someone had a hand wrapped around his neck. The panic that surged through him at the thought was astronomical.

A panic attack. That's what Draco had called them. ' _Regulate your breathing,'_ he would have said. Harry could have laughed. It dreadful catch-22. He couldn't breathe because he was panicking about not being able to breathe. Choking was his uncle's favorite and Harry's fear by default. 

Suddenly the man was there, his grubby hands reaching out. They clasp over his mouth; an equally ghostly hypodermic of adrenaline pierces his heart, unloading in an instant. He feels his ribs heaving as if bound by ropes, straining to inflate his lungs. His head is a carousel of fears and _'icantbreathes'_ spinning out of control, each one pushing his mind into a paralyzing frenzy. Harry wants to run; he needs to freeze. He hears Remus call out for him but it feels far away like he's no longer in his body that sits frozen in the stuffy armchair.

A hand, a _real_ hand, touches his wrist and Harry flinches back wildly. He doesn't remember how but his body was suddenly bunched up tightly and his arms wrapped around his head. Flashes came to him - Remus' shocked expression, a bottle being pushed to his lips, whispered assurances - but they hardly register.

He doesn't know how long he sits there with his eyes squeezed closed, trying to shut the image of his uncle out of his mind. The senses slowly come back to him. When he's finally aware of what's happening his face is stuffed into the crook of Remus's neck where the smell of old parchment and smoke fill his nose. There's a gentle hand on his back rubbing soothing circles in a way that reminded him the way he used to jealousy watch parents calm their children down crying on the streets. The thought pricks his sore eyes.

Finally, Harry pushes himself away and lets his head fall pathetically into his hands.

"I'm sorry," he says, barely a whisper. Remus probably wouldn't have caught it if his hearing wasn't heightened.

"What for?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Remus shakes his head. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have told you. Sirius didn't want to tell you cause he feared how you would react. He knew the muggles you grew up with weren't likely to be particularly fond of that kind of thing and he didn't know whether you took on the same ideas or not."

"No no, it's not that," Harry wipes his nose with his shirt sleeve. "I'm fine with it. Really. Just took me by surprise is all."

Remus raises an eyebrow. "Are you sure? That's it, just a surprise?" The face he gives Harry if full of doubt. He shrugs in return "I know we aren't very close but I'm here if you want to talk. I won't push anything."

Harry nods as quietly he munches on a biscuit. Sirius was gay. Remus was gay. Remus _loved_ Sirius and not just the way Harry had. They were partners. They were...

"How long?" Harry asked, a little unsure.

"That's a complicated question. I think both of us knew when we were sixteen but never did anything serious. I think we were both too scared to act upon it. There were a couple of times I thought... Sirius hated himself for it for a long time. Even if he hated his family some ideas they had imprinted on him. It took a long time to work him out of it. After he went to Azkaban I thought I had moved on, but obviously, that was wrong because when he showed up again we..."

Harry thinks back to all the times Remus had stopped everything at the hint of Sirius' name in his third year. The way Sirius sat so close to him during Order meetings and the looks they shared when they thought no one was looking. Merlin, how could he have been so _blind?_

Unwelcome thoughts of Cedric come in his mind. Harry didn't know much about his own sexuality but ever since the night at the graveyard he didn't like to think about it. It was just something else he was buried deep inside him long ago. Not because of some internalized homophobia, but because of some crazy physiological fear of attachment. And besides no matter what, announcing who you are to the world was terrifying, because what if the world doesn't like you back?

"I didn't know."

"It was secret for a reason. Don't blame yourself for not figuring it out."

"I just. . ."

Remus smiles sadly at him, something he seemed to like to do a lot. "He would be glad to hear you approved. He really did love you and he never wanted that to go away. He was too afraid of what you would say. He couldn't risk it."

Harry's expression formed one of a tight grimace and his hands spread like pale starfish around the cup, and they are cold too, resisting the warmth that struggles to seep into them. A low hum of a headache starts to echo throughout his head from his panic attack. Perhaps it was the tired ache in his bones that affected his next words.

"You still shouldn't go after Bellatrix. It's not healthy. You said I didn't understand, well I do. I wish I didn't, but I do."

Remus stared at him not quite getting what he was saying.

It's Harry's turn to draw a deep breath. The words leave his mouth almost in slow motion. "Cedric. The boy I brought back with me after the third task." He didn't look up to see Remus' reaction. He soldiered on. If he didn't spit the words out now he doesn't think he would have the strength to do it again for a couple decades. "I wanted to curse that rat's body until it was unrecognizable. But I didn't, you know why? The best revenge is living well. Nothing has infuriated Voldemort more. Let someone else do the task, Remus. You aren't going to gain anything from it. Trust me."

"I-"

"I'm gay, Remus."

Harry had never said the words out loud before. Nor had he ever talked to anyone about Cedric other than Ron and Hermione either. It felt strange and he didn't know whether he enjoyed the weighted that crumbled off his shoulders with it.

"Cedric Diggory?"

Harry swallows. "Yes."

There's a silence Harry can't decipher. Harry stares transfixed at his hands as if they're the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. Suddenly there was an arm around his shoulders that pulled him close, gently rubbing his arm.

"Its okay, Harry. I don't care. Neither would Sirius. Or your parents. They _love_ you."

Harry clings to him.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi this absolutely trash


	28. Shallow

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN**

**[Shallow]**

**DRACO**

“I need your help with something.”

“Go away.”

“No.”

Draco looked up from his look to where Pansy was glaring down at him. Her lips were pursed and her face was pulled in a tight line to show she was serious.

“Blasie, tell her to get out.”

“I let her in.”

“Why the hell would you do that?”

“Because you look like you just watched your dog get butchered by a house-elf.”

Draco scowls at the boy leaning up against his bedpost. “Maybe I did. Leave me the bloody fuck alone.” He moves to pull close his bed curtains but Blasie catches his wrist. 

“Why the hell are you so moody?”

“Come off it Zabini.”

“Is it that time of the month again?” Pansy teases. She ignores Draco’s wishes and sits herself down at the foot of his bed. Just in kicking distance too. 

“I don't see what is to you.”

“Because we’re your  _ friends. _ ” She sighs dramatically. “Not like your acting like it recently. You’ve been such a bore since school started.” She nudges him with her foot and Draco makes a point by pushing it away dramatically. 

The comment bothers him more than he would have liked. Of course he was acting differently. He woke up. They hadn’t. He was stuck, blocked in, from every direction because of the goddamn mark on his arm they so _ gloriously  _ worshipped. Every accomplice he once had dropped, no kicked, him the second they thought he would tear down their social standing. The two hadn’t realized yet that a life like wasn’t a life at all.

And his father. The thought burned his insides. Utter silence from him in over the half month he’d been at school. He should be glad that he had cut the strings, but he couldn’t help but feel that wasn’t the end of the story. That night at the inn was only the first round. There would be countless others before he would be cut free of the strings his father had crafted so carefully. The man was a snake, hidden underneath the brush, waiting to pounce when he least expected it.

They were just so blind. He wanted to grab them by the shoulders and yell  _ ‘Wake up! Wake you, you idiots! Don’t you see what you’re getting into?!’ _

But he couldn’t. And they wouldn’t. 

“I’m busy.”

“You’re always busy.”

“Ask Blasie to do it.”

“Gah!” She throws her hands up in an act. “He’s horrendously a terrible sneak. The bugger doesn’t know the difference between stomping and walking.”

“It’s called  _ walking with purpose _ .” Blasie corrects her looking slightly annoyed. It was the millionth time they’d have that conversation.

“I don’t care whatever it’s called it’s annoying as fuck. No, what I need is you. Speed, stealth, and an agile mind.”

“You’re able to get by on two out of three then?” 

Pansy glares at Draco then allows it to deteriorate into a playful smirk. “There he is.”

~~~

The library door opens with an eerie creak in the night air that makes Draco wince. 

“You should have put a mufflio charm on it.” He whispers to Pansy. The words echo like thunder in the large, cavernous room. 

“Madam Pince won’t notice. She’s probably fast asleep in her knickers by now.”

Draco makes a face at the vivid image. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean someone else won’t! You’re careless, Pansy. There are two prefects scheduled for patrolling the first floor tonight.”

“Yes, and if you actually showed  _ up _ for the prefect meetings you’ll know they’re fifth years Colten and Griffen. I slipped a sleeping drought in their pumpkin juice during dinner. Come  _ on _ you lazy bum. You’re a Slytherin now act like it.”

Draco followed reluctantly behind her. When she first proposed the idea of sneaking into the restricted section he had opposed. It was recklessly stupid, there had to be tons of wards and charms around it. Apparently, he underestimated the stupidity of his headmaster. All that forbade them going inside was a thin piece of rope.

Besides, it might be his only chance to find a real cure for Harry. He would have never been able to look around with permission with the taint of dark magic of his last name. He failed to word the idea to Pansy though for obvious reasons.

This part of the library was old. The floors creaked as he grazed his fingertips over the decaying bookshelves. Small runes were inscribed there; old ones that went out of date years ago. He could have stayed there for hours to scribble them all down and figure out what they did if Pansy didn’t tug at his sleeve.

“Use a detect-”

“Detection charm, yes,  _ I know _ . Honestly Draco. Stop treating me as if I’m four.”

Draco gave her a sharp glare but didn’t say anything else on the matter. 

It would have been an obvious choice for Draco to hate the dark arts after what it had done to him and his family. It caused the rift between them that could never be healed. And yet, Draco still had a morbid fascination with it. Perhaps it was the blood that ran inside his veins. It was his mother’s family that coined the term ‘Black Magic’ after all. He knew what it did to people who got too close, and so he always examined it from afar much to his father’s distaste. There was evil in it for sure, but there was also good to be found in it if you paid enough attention. Countless lives could be saved if hospitals didn’t have such a bias against it. I was like a sword; not necessarily evil though it’s purpose to harm. It all depends on the person using it. In the end, knowledge was knowledge and shouldn’t be restricted. 

Draco glanced back over his shoulder to where Pansy had a  _ ‘Lumos’ _ charm up to examine the titles. She refused to even tell him what he was looking for. It left an uncertain feeling in his stomach. Pansy wouldn’t have nearly the same intent as he did. By helping he was potentially saving Harry’s life but also causing damage to her in the long run. 

“Watch my back,” she whispered over her shoulder before heading deeper into shelves. She stopped at a bookcase labeled ‘ _ potions and poisons’ _ before turning the corner out of sight. 

Draco took out his own wand just in case. The two of them always said he was a scaredy-cat when in truth he couldn’t stand not being prepared for something he could prevent. If he didn’t, in some physiological way, he would blame himself for it just as his father would. 

Casting an alert charm, he turned back to examine the plaques on the bookshelves. They were as old as the section themselves. A couple he had to wipe the dust off to properly read. When he finally found the medical section he was somewhat irked at the small collection. There were only five or eight books. He grumbled once again about Dumbledore’s poor management of the school. You could have eight different ways to curse your enemies' bloodline but Merlin forbid something that could save a life. It was times like these he missed the Malfoy Manor library. 

He examined the books closer. He couldn’t possibly take all these books with him without someone noticing. He supposed he would have to take one and hope for the best. Suddenly he remembers the charm Bramble used to cast when he was little when trying to find a specific book he was pitching a fit about. He’d never cast it himself before and from what he remembered it only worked on small sections at a time. He toyed with his bottom lip. What was the hand motion again? A circle and a flick? A triangle? It was a sister charm of Accio so perhaps...

“ _ Libererous _ sickness curse!” 

It fails. He tries again, this time with more exaggeration. That too fails to work. He lowered his wand to give up when he caught sight of a small, pocket-sized book wiggling its way out from being jammed between two larger ones a couple sections down. Someone had misplaced it.

Draco helped it and it came flying out like an overactive snitch. He caught it with ease. It was newer than most books in the library. The leather binding on it couldn’t have been more than a couple years old. He was just about to open it when faint whispering caught his attention. 

Quickly, he shoved the book inside his robe pocket and threw himself up against the bookshelf. He could feel his heart drop to his stomach as the panic shot through his body. Millions of thoughts raced through his head at once in rebuttal of his paralyzed limbs. He could be expelled for this. They would send him back to the manor where he’ll no doubt be killed.

His mind flies to Pansy. She had no idea. He had to hope she had a better sense of hearing that she liked to act on.

_ “Bend down, you’re too tall. You’re going to end up exposing us.”  _

_ “Come on, it’s not my fault I’m tall. You try walking like a hundred and fifty-year-old grandma and see how you like it!” _

Draco strained to catch some of the intruder's conversation. He recognized the bickering of Granger and Weasley almost immediately. He held his breath. They must have used Harry’s invisibility cloak while he was a way to sneak past his alarm. 

_ “You’re walking too fast!”  _

_ “No, you’re just short.” _

There was no way Draco was going to get out of there undetected. The voices were coming closer and closer. He suspected they were heading exactly where he was. Looking around, he realized he was in a dead-end. There would be no other way.

He looked around the corner. The two were beginning to shed the cloak while whispering something he could no longer hear. Draco took a deep breath and turned the corner in the most casual manner he could manage.

“Going for a walk I see?”

The two stopped dead in their tracks. Granger moved faster than Weasley, spinning around with her wand in hand before Draco could blink. 

“What the hell are  _ you _ doing here?” Weasley hisses. He had stepped forward in front of his friend looking as if he would hex him. Draco raised his own wand in retaliation.

“I could ask you the same.” He adds a sneer at the end of it for good measure. Pansy was right about one thing- he was acting differently since school started. If the two of them noticed it, then the rest of the school would be on the same train sooner or later. It was best to establish who he was again and the two of them would be the best way to do that. 

“None of your bloody business.”

“Unfortunate. Care to steer me to the magical creature section? I’ve been looking for the best way to boil my cornish pixies with the rancid smell that comes with.”

Granger made a face then raised her wand. “Watch it Malfoy. We could report you to the headmaster. You could be expelled.”

He ignored the way his heart skipped a beat. “I suppose, but what would he say about his two out of his three favorite lapdogs breaking some of the school’s biggest rules as well? He definitely wouldn’t be very pleased with you either.”

Weasely moves suddenly and Granger grabs him from the back of his robes. Draco raises his eyebrow tauntingly at him who practically growls back. 

“He wouldn’t be very pleased, but who would get in the prophet first?” She tests, her voice ice.

“‘Malfoy Heir, Expelled from Hogwarts for Dark Arts’. Not a very nice headline, is it? Might even destroy your family's reputation.”

Draco’s hand tightens of his wand. Their words had quickly diminished his fear into anger.  _ They have no clue, _ he thinks frustrated. No one did. Everyone was so fucking clueless. If they knew he was trying to save their best friend’s  _ life  _ he wouldn’t even be here right now. They acted like he was the selfish one, but so were they in their own rationed way and they didn’t even  _ know _ . They didn’t know and didn’t  _ want _ to and so he would constantly be blamed so they would never have the time to look into their own.

“Yeah? And who’s word are they going to take? Some filthy mudblood and a blood traitor over me?”

He regrets the words before they even left his mouth. He doesn’t believe them, they had just came tumbling out before he could stop it. He almost can’t believe it was  _ him _ who said it. He had only wanted to lash out as they did him. Draco’s hands start to shake in disgust and fear at himself. 

Weasely rips away from her grip and launches himself at Draco. If it wasn’t for his quick  _ ‘protego’ _ Draco would be lying flat on his back. 

“You  _ bastard!”  _

A spell suddenly flies over his ear causing Draco to duck. His hopes she would hold back the redhead quickly dissolved looking at her face. 

_ “Stupefy! _ ” She yells again. Draco throws himself behind the table on instinct. There are few other spells thrown that all narrowly miss and hit the bookshelf behind him. A two on one was destined to lose so where the hell was Pansy?

“ _ Petrificus Totalus!”  _ He looks over his shoulder and shoots at Granger who shields but not before shooting a slicing charm back at him that hits his cheek. He winces then brings a hand up to it, feeling blood. 

He jumps up from his spot with the protection of a couple shields and makes for the door. He didn’t want to draw blood. That would make him on the same level as his father and that was the last thing he needed. 

Suddenly Draco’s head went reeling. He hadn’t expected the Weasely’s muggle way of fighting. The powerful punch sent Draco stumbling into the bookcase behind him. A couple books fell ontop but he could barely notice with the ringing in his head. It felt like a drugged version of the cruciatus curse but contained in one area. He groaned loudly as held his head in his hands. The world was spinning around him in a way that made him nauseous.

Somewhere he registered a sharp squeal coming from one of the open books next to him. His two attackers sunk to their knees with their fingers guarding their ears. Dazed, Draco looks around for an escape. Despite the blurriness, he sees the discarded cloak on the floor. He scrambles up to reach it while they’re both distracted. It’s soft underneath his fingers.

Draco throws it on and stands up with the help of the table and almost busting his chin. He dizzily limbs the best he can towards the door. Madam Pinch would find them eventually.


End file.
